The Hunter & The Hunter
by xmzame
Summary: A story about partnership, love, feud, and purpose. A tale evolving around two characters - both hunters, both broken, and both so God damn stubborn. Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak always found themselves one year saving each other, one way or another- their tiny coincidental meetings leading up to them working together to hunt a demon that broke both their families.
1. High Hopes

_I remember it now, it takes me back to when it all first started_  
><em>But I've only got myself to blame for it, and I accept it now<em>  
><em>It's time to let it go, go out and start again<em>  
><em>But it's not that easy<em>

Clutching his arm in immense pain, Dean winced as he applied firm pressure on to it, leaning against the nearest wall and waited silently, trying his best not to breathe so loud. He looked over at the blood that trickled down his left arm, leaving stains all over his favourite shirt. Damn it, Dean thought to himself. It was only the first day of his week off work. His _first day. _He planned earlier on how he was going to spend his first day off, which honestly didn't include much. He just wanted a trip to the nearest bar and to watch some television before catching up with some sleep. But here he was, hiding somewhere in a bar from a couple of freaking _werewolves_.

Dean wrapped his arm with a hanky he happened to have in his jacket pocket, which slowed down the bleeding for a while. He waited for any signs indicating that the werewolves might still be there, getting ready to jump at him any second now. He had only one silver bullet with him at the moment and even if he used it, he still had another werewolf aching to have his heart for dinner.

He grabbed hold of his gun and peeked from behind the wall, studying the room fully before slowly stepping forward. The werewolves seemed to have left the bar, getting half of what they wanted. Dean wasn't stupid. Werewolves had a great sense of smell; they obviously knew he was still in there. Dean took a few more steps before looking down at the bartender's ripped, heartless body in guilt. He could've saved the guy, if he arrived just a few seconds earlier.

He dialled 911 and told them there had been an animal attack at the bar. Dean walked out, gun still firm in hand and it was a bit too dark to notice anything moving around. The fact that only half of the street lights worked didn't help.

Just three seconds later he's thrown to the ground with an incredible force from behind, yet luckily sending his gun flying only an arm's length away. The male werewolf seemed hesitant to claw at Dean, his bloodshot eyes turning soft for a moment. He managed to grab his gun in time with his good arm before the werewolf was able to rip him to shreds, and pulled the trigger.

The werewolf choked on its own blood, collapsing dead on top of Dean. He shoved its body off of him and ran to the Impala for more bullets. As soon as he loaded them, another gunshot was heard from just metres behind him. He turned around to see the lifeless body of the other werewolf, the female, lying on the ground, just three feet away from him.

He looked up further to see the figure of a man walking towards him with a gun resting at his side. The man kept his eyes locked on the dead werewolf as he walked, then turned his gaze to Dean when he stopped and stood four feet away. It was too late at night to see the man's full features clearly, but Dean could have sworn he had the bluest eyes he'd ever seen, and it made him nervous.

"Are you…alright?" the man asked, blinking a few times before forming his mouth in a straight line.

Dean was seemingly surprised at the man's voice, he didn't know why, but he was.

"Yeah, um, you know I- could've done it myself, but thanks- I guess," he only managed to stammer out, while making nervous hand gestures at his own gun and car. He realized he probably looked idiotic then, and hoped it was dark enough for the man to not notice the tints of red that flushed on his cheeks.

The man squinted and smirked, looking down for a millisecond before meeting Dean's eyes again. He tilted his head in a sort of odd manner when he noticed Dean's arm, which started to bleed again.

"You should get that checked up," he muttered, nodding at Dean before slowly turning away.

Hurriedly, Dean took a small step forward. "Wait, uh, hold on," he mumbled. He didn't know what he was doing, or what it was about this man that snapped an interest in him. Maybe it was because he was a bit too polite for a hunter, he thought.

The man turned his head first before fully facing Dean. "Yes?" he asked, slightly biting his lip. If Dean was certain he hadn't been imagining things, he could have sworn the man was trying his best to not break into a smile.

"Uh, who are you?" was all Dean managed to get out, followed by a small nervous chuckle, because he really had no idea of what to say. He probably sounded as stupid as he looked now, completely avoiding eye contact with the man.

"I'm Dean, by the way, in case you wanted to know…" he added, letting his voice trail off at the end.

The man stared at the ground for a few moments and then glanced back at Dean. "Cas. Castiel," he said, before turning and walking away.

Dean watched him walk and sighed, realizing what a complete fool he made of himself. "Well, guess I'm not seeing you again," he whispered to himself and turned to face the hood of the Impala, placing back whatever weapons he had with him.

"Actually, Dean?"

Dean turned around at the mention of his name to see Castiel standing at the same place he stood just now. Cas was the one who seemed nervous this time, rubbing the back of his neck and fiddling with his fingers.

Dean stared as he noticed the amount of difference the way Cas looked from before. "Yeah, you okay?"

Cas looked at the ground and then into Dean's eyes, as if he was braving himself to ask a question. "Yes just- would you mind- maybe, giving me a ride to the nearest motel?"

Dean smirked at the thought of him and Cas going to a motel together, but he knew it'd be impossible for them to get anywhere. "Yeah sure, it's the least I can do for you," he said, before gesturing an invite into his car. Dean could see the relief that washed over Cas. Cas nodded and entered the car, riding shotgun. The drive was silent for a while before Dean started to ask the regular questions.

"So, how long have you been hunting?"

Cas cleared his throat. "8 months," he said.

Dean looked at him in surprise for a second, before turning his eyes back to the road. "Like, in total?" he asked. Cas nodded.

"Wow. What was it that got you ticked?" Dean asked, regretting it right after the words came out of his mouth. Shouldn't have done that, he thought to himself. No hunter found their way into hunting with a happy reason.

Much to Dean's surprise, he didn't get a glare or a dirty look in return. "Demon. Lost my parents, then a friend, they were special to me," Cas answered, as if he'd already answered the question many times before this.

Dean swallowed as he kept his eyes to the road. "Sorry to hear that," he said.

"Don't be."

"What?"

"Don't be. I've heard a lot about you, Dean. I knew you were quick enough to kill that werewolf by yourself," Cas explained. Dean took a few seconds to register that. He wasn't that surprised, but he still had a question in mind. "You know what- you can stop right here, I'm supposed to meet up with someone," Cas added, pointing to a certain spot beside the road. Dean pulled over. Cas nodded a thanks to Dean and reached for the door.

"Wait, hold on."

Cas turned around to look at Dean. "Yes?"

Dean paused for a second. "If you knew I could do it myself then- why'd you help me?" he asked.

Cas glanced at him and failed to suppress a tiny smile, slightly fidgeting with his hands. "Uh, I guess- good things do happen, Dean? Thank you for the ride, I'll see you around," he said before getting out of the car. Confusion was clear on Dean's face. He rolled his eyes and drove off anyway.

_'Castiel. What a weird ass name.'_

* * *

><p>"Okay then, I'll get going," Dean spoke after gathering and placing a bunch of weapons into a bag. He turned to leave the house before his brother stopped him.<p>

"Dean, wait."

Dean paused then turned to face Sam, making a small gesture with his hands. "Yeah?"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Dean worriedly. "Nothing, just, you sure you wanna do this? Hunting by yourself? I mean, you know I'd go with you, if I could, but- you know."

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and loosened his grip on his bag. "C'mon, Sam, we've talked about this. I'll be fine. Just, get some rest, kay? You need it." He patted his brother's shoulder.

"It's just the last time you hunted alone it didn't end very-"

"See ya tomorrow, Sammy!" he cut him off, leaving the place straight away before his brother got to argue any further.

For the first time in a long time, Dean worked on a case alone. It was something he needed to get used to, with Sam physically unable to hunt for a while. The way Sam broke his leg was pretty insane; literally, as it had to do with a psycho spirit they were hunting. It took some convincing to the doctors to do that all he did was fall off a ladder and landed badly. They said it could take up to 3 or 4 months for his leg to completely heal.

Dean found a case in Rapid City, which was about a 5 hour drive from Bobby's. It probably wasn't going to be easy, fighting alone and not having any back up like always, but he'll come up with a plan. He always does.

5 hours later, Dean booked a motel and started his research.

* * *

><p>Castiel fluttered his eyes open and soon realized where he was, and how stupidly easy he got caught. <em>Damn it<em>. He hated himself whenever he made stupid mistakes like this. He was still pretty new to hunting, compared to other hunters, but he knew he could do better than this. He got himself knocked out and ended up in a dirty basement with other victims. He winced as he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head.

He was seated in an old chair, with his wrists tied tightly at the back of it, and his ankles tied to the front. He peered around the room. It was dusty, like any other ordinary old basement. The only things that made it different were the large amount of books placed at the corner of the room in an unusual way. There were two other people in here with him; a man and woman who looked in their late thirties. They couldn't have been here a lot longer than he had. He searched the same place just yesterday. They were tied up just like Cas, with their faces bruised and hair messed up.

The woman awoke and slightly jumped in her chair when she noticed Castiel's presence, gaping at him. Her eyes looked worn out from crying, and her lips trembled when she spoke. "He's going to kill us, he's got three; we're going to die." She looked down at herself and failed to prevent herself from weeping.

"Hey, we're going to get out of here, okay? I'm not letting him hurt anyone anymore." Cas tried to reassure her, which wasn't working that well, as the woman just shook her head and continued to cry.

"What- what did you mean when you said 'he's got three'?" Cas asked, softening his voice while focusing his eyes on the woman.

She looked up to face him and thought for a while before she spoke, "He said- he said he was going to start killing once there were three of us, or something like that, I don't know."

Castiel remembered researching and reading about this. The ghost was a spirit of a serial killer in Rapid City named Earl McLaren, back in the early 70s, who slaughtered his victims, taking three of them at once. He was shot dead by an officer, the bullet landing at the side of his forehead. McLaren had his own killing pattern, taking them once in three years, on the first Monday of September.

Cas thought for a moment. There was something he had to do right before he got hit in the head, but he couldn't quite put his finger to it. He couldn't even remember where or how he was knocked out so easily.

"What's your name?" asked Cas.

"Melinda," she stated, forcing a smile before turning to the unconscious man tied up next to her, who had cuts and bruises all over his face. "And that's my husband, Chris. He- he put up a fight earlier, with whoever that man was."

"Okay, Melinda, I know it sounds impossible, but I'm going to do what I can to get you and your husband out of here, alright? But I need to know something," Cas said.

Melinda furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and slightly shook her head, "What do you need to know?" she asked.

"I need you to describe him, the thing- the guy that put you two here," Cas said in a quiet voice, trying to not sound demanding.

Melinda looked up, trying to recall what she saw. "He moved fast, like it was impossible. I'm going to sound crazy but- it was as if he was…" She left her voice trailing. "Teleporting. I mean- I'm sure I was seeing things," she added, bitterly laughing and shaking her head.

"You're not crazy. There are things out there, Melinda. Not the best time to explain everything about that, but it's true. Tell me what he looked like."

Melinda thought for a while, "He seemed, I don't know, normal. He didn't look like a killer. He wore normal house clothes. Pretty thin, had ginger hair."

It all came flashing back to him. At least a couple of hours ago, Cas was at his motel room, looking through McLaren's personal files which he had managed to grab hold of. He had just gotten back from the cemetery back then. He remembered reading about Earl McLaren having a wife, and how she was still alive and staying at an old folks' home nearby. Cas remembered driving to the place and meeting her, faking himself as a blogger. She talked a little too cheerfully for an old lady who had married a serial killer.

"_So, tell me, Mrs McLaren-"_

"_Oh, darling please, call me Irene!"_

"_Alright then- Irene." Cas looked up from his notebook and smiled thinly at the elder woman who was seated opposite him. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Tell me how you found out about your husband, if you don't mind?"_

_The elder woman made Cas nervous. He could tell she wasn't happy the way she made herself to be. Her mouth was open, the corners of it pulling itself upwards and sideways to meet the middle of her cheeks, but her big, olive coloured eyes stayed the same. She let out a sigh and grinned at Cas._

"_My Earl was such a sweetheart, you know?" Irene clenched her jaw and pursed her lips as she let her eyes wander around the room, staying quiet for a few seconds._

"_We were so young and free; animals in love, people called us. He asked me to marry him when we were drunk in his apartment, and I said yes. I said yes because I loved him and I knew he loved me. I woke up alone the next day, disappointed. But all that disappointment flew away when he showed up at the door with red tulips and asked me the same question, 'Will you be my wife?' and I said yes again."_

_Crinkles were actually present at her eyes this time when she smiled. Cas was amazed at the amount of detail Irene could actually remember from decades ago. Not a few moments later her smile was wiped off her face. "Earl had a few problems a few years after that. He started talking to the walls, ceilings, but never around me though. It was the same conversation. He always mumbled to himself about 'not wanting to'. I asked him what was wrong and he just said he was stressed from work. He never yelled at me, even when I knew he wanted to. He stopped talking to himself one day, and that one day we went to a party. It was my cousin's party, actually. We wanted to have some fun, just like the good old days._

"_And about an hour into the party he said he was gonna head outside for some fresh air. He didn't return for the rest of the party, so I went to look for him. And that's when I watched him murder my cousin-in law at the garden. He didn't try to explain himself. I was horrified, of course. I screamed, and he just- looked at me, as if he'd done nothing wrong or he didn't know me. And that's when he ran. The next time I see him- ten years later- he's lying in a coffin."_

_Irene looked away from Cas then, and kept her eyes peeled to the view outside. "You know, I- I haven't been to the house in years."_

_Cas felt guilty. He wasn't good with these kinds of situations; he definitely needed to work on that. "Is there… do you own anything of his to remember by? You don't have to answer if you're not comfortable," He said in a calming voice._

_Irene turned her view from the window to Cas. "No, dear, it's fine. I've said this to a lot of people, even though most of them think I'm officially insane, well- there's a lock of his hair kept somewhere at his bedside, but like I said before- I haven't been to the house in a long time."_

_That was a little too easy, Cas thought. But hey, it's something. Cas said his thanks and goodbye to Irene before walking out of the intimidating area. He drove to McLaren's place again. It was the first Monday of September; if McLaren was still out there, some people needed saving. Cas grabbed hold of his gun and made his way into the house._

_He found his way to the bedroom and peeped into the room before entering. Two steps into the room was all it took for him to get thrown across, landing his head straight to the wall, knocking him out._

"That was all I needed to hear," Cas said, nodding his way at Melinda. He silently cursed to himself. He could have gotten this case over with if he had been more careful. He looked behind his shoulder at the ropes that nearly suffocated his wrists. He was good with knots; he could free himself from them if he tried hard enough. He worked at it, but his wrists started to hurt as he struggled more. They were far too tight to get out by himself in time.

"If I could just- get rid of this one strangled knot-"

_**BOOM!**_

Everyone, even Chris, now awake, jumped in their seats.

"Was that a gunshot?" Melinda cried out.

"Linda? Linda, what's going on?" Chris' voice trembled while he struggled with the knots tied around his wrists.

_What the hell?_

* * *

><p>This McLaren guy was sure pissed off. Dean's been thrown practically everywhere around the room now. McLaren appeared in front of Dean and held him by the throat, forcefully pushing him against the wall. Dean attempted to free himself, gasping for air at the same time. McLaren's bloodshot eyes stared harder into Dean's, as if he could kill him if their eyes made contact long enough.<p>

"Is someone out there? Please, help us!" a muffled female voice cried out, followed by a male's. "Help!"

McLaren shot his head towards the direction of where the voices came from, slightly loosening his grip on Dean. Dean took the chance to grab the iron crowbar that was previously in his hands, and swung it at McLaren, dissipating him.

"Help!"

Dean quickly followed the direction of the voices which lead him to the opening of the basement. "I'm gonna get you out!" Dean shouted from above, picking the lock of the trap door before swinging it open.

The basement had a low ceiling. Dean's hair brushed the surface even when he lowered his body. It was a small room, and it took less than a second to spot the victims.

Dean rushed over to the one he was nearest to, the woman, and used a small knife to cut the rope that tied around her wrists and ankles. The woman breathed in and out, trying to calm herself while rubbing the marks left on her wrists.

"Thank you, thank you."

Dean quickly moved on to the man beside her, doing the same for him. The couple took each other in their arms while Dean hurriedly shifted to the next person.

"You?"

Dean shot his head up forwards, pausing for a second as he met a pair of familiar eyes.

"You," Dean whispered and cut the rope at the man's ankles. He wasn't sure who he was, or where he'd seen him before, but Dean knew he never thought he'd see him again.

The man stood up as soon as he was free and a certain thought itched at the back of Dean's mind. '_C'mon, Dean, think. Where have you seen him before? Blue eyes, blue eyes, blue eyes-'_

Realization hit him as he put the puzzle pieces together. _Castiel._

"You're that guy- those werewolves-"

"No time to talk. Get these people out of here, quick," Cas ordered, looking Dean in the eye before walking past him.

Dean quirked his eyebrows. "What- you expect me to just do what you say and leave the rest of the job to you? Listen buddy, no offense, but I didn't drive all the way here to-"

"There's a lock of his hair kept somewhere in the bedroom. I know where it is, just get these people to safety, please, and do whatever you want after that," Cas said, turning to face him.

Dean let his eyes wander as he grunted and slightly nodded, "Alright, fine. You got a lighter?"

"Probably not, he removed most of my weapons while I was- DEAN!"

McLaren appeared a few feet behind Dean, knife ready in hand. Cas exclaimed, taking Dean's arm reflexively when McLaren raised his weapon. Dean turned around and managed to stab McLaren slightly with the crowbar he already had his grip tight on, dissipating him once more.

"Great reflexes!" Dean emphasized on his sarcasm, sheepishly smiling at Cas. He smiled at the fact that Cas remembered Dean's name, though. Their first meeting was about three months ago, and they barely had a conversation. Somehow, Cas' name stuck with Dean as well.

Cas sighed and rolled his eyes, letting go of Dean's arm. "He won't be gone for long, let's go."

Dean nodded and ushered the two other victims out of the basement. "Watch your head, c'mon."

* * *

><p>Cas followed behind them. Dean threw a lighter in Cas' direction before making his way out of the house with the other victims. Cas caught it and headed straight to the bedroom quickly, then jogged his way to the bedside table. Dust tickled his nose as he opened the drawers one by one. Cas drew a small smile on his face when he opened a translucent glass box to see a lock of ginger hair. His hand shook as he took several attempts to ignite the lighter. "C'mon, c'mon!" he whispered to himself, eyes slightly twitching before the lighter flew out of his hands metres away from him.<p>

He could only turn halfway to see McLaren before he was greeted by several punches to the face. Cas fell to the ground as McLaren kicked him in the stomach a second time. The hair and lighter was out of his reach by then- they were barely in view as McLaren towered over him. Cas lifted his head as McLaren grabbed him by the collar, other arm raised with the sharp metal object in hand. For several moments, Cas thought, this was it. There couldn't have been an escape from this. But he didn't want to die- not now, not like this at least. It was too soon; there were so many things he'd left unsaid to people he knew, good or bad. There were favours he needed to return. There were memories that needed to be made, years from now. But this was it. There he was, about to get killed by a _spirit_. A spirit, for goodness' sake. Cas lowered his eyelids as the taste of iron in his own blood formed in his mouth. It'd be a quick death, at least, he thought to himself.

Cas' eyes popped open after a few seconds of _nothing_ as he felt McLaren actually loosen his grip on him. McLaren wore a look of shock on his face and exhaled heavily. "You… not you…" McLaren breathed out the words, his fearsome face looking the closest to actually being _scared_. Cas furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and wiggled himself out of McLaren's grip. Cas wasn't sure what to expect from McLaren after that; another punch that could knock him out straight again, maybe, or a quick stab to the heart that would lead to his death. Instead, McLaren just stood there, staring helplessly into the empty space beside Cas.

"Not today… not mine."

And with that, McLaren let out a ghostly scream as his body extinguished in flames. Cas widened his eyes and swallowed the gasp that almost escaped his mouth. He stared at the lock of hair that burnt on the ground, which could hardly even be recognized as hair anymore. He looked up further to see the lighter being held in another person's hands.

"So,_ Castiel_, was it?"

Cas nodded at Dean and blinked hard. His face hurt, his body hurt, and hell, he had at least a dozen questions in mind. He attempted to get up from the floor, holding his stomach while he coughed out blood, only to slowly stumble forward. Dean rushed to his side, catching him before his knees could reach the ground.

"Hey hey, I gotcha," Dean said, wrapping Cas' arm around his neck. Dean held onto Cas' hand to stabilize him as they made their way out of the place. Cas was too beat up to talk properly or ask any questions, even though he wanted to. He let his head fall onto Dean's shoulder, hoping Dean wouldn't mind. He was pretty damn beat up, after all.

They got to Dean's car with the two other victims, Cas riding shotgun and the couple sitting at the back. Cas fell back to his seat, panting as he placed his hand on his stomach. Dean eyed him from the side. "He didn't stab you anywhere, did he?" he asked with a hint of worry in his tone.

"No," Cas managed to say, shaking his head in the process.

Dean opened his mouth as if to say something, but gulped instead. "Good, I don't have to clean your blood off my seats then." Cas rolled his eyes and rested his head, letting the darkness he came across at the corners of his eyes take over.

* * *

><p>Cas woke up the next day covered in white sheets. He rubbed his eyes as he recalled the events that happened earlier. He remembered McLaren turning into flames in front of him, getting into a car, getting out of the car as Dean ushered him to the hospital. He remembered hearing the sounds of doors opening and many kinds of beeping that gave him a bit of a headache. He remembered several voices surrounding him, including Dean's. <em>Dean.<em>

"Mornin', sunshine."

Cas almost jumped at Dean's presence. Dean was sat near the corner of the room in a chair, newspaper in hands. Cas simply stared at him, swallowing his words as he wasn't so sure of what to say. "You," he murmured.

Dean blinked twice before speaking. "Yes, me. How you feeling?"

Cas glanced at Dean and then turned his head away. "I feel fine, my head doesn't hurt so much anymore," he said. "And, thank you for, you know."

"Saving your ass? Hm, well. I guess I owe you a little for last time," Dean mentioned, looking over at Cas.

Cas peered at him and nodded a few times, remembering the last time they met. "It's Winchester, right? Dean Winchester?" Cas asked after a few moments of silence.

Dean stared. "Yeah. How do you know my last name?"

"Well, people talk about you, Dean. Hunters. Like I said- I think I've said before- I've… heard a lot about you," Cas said, unsure of how Dean would react. Cas had gone to other hunters for help before, more than once. They'd talk about Dean and Sam Winchester, two silly kids doing whatever their dad told them to do. They'd talk about how much they changed after their dad passed, and how they actually became better hunters after that.

Dean smirked and formed his mouth in a straight line. "Yeah well, I'm sure you have," Dean looked to the left and then back at Cas with his eyebrows raised. "And you're _Castiel_," Dean emphasized on Cas' name, saying it as if it was a rich word.

"Yes," Cas replied, keeping his eyes on Dean.

"Fancy name, well," Dean got up from his chair. "It's good to see you okay. You look a whole lot better without all that blood on your face," He said, sheepishly smiling. He reached his hands into his pocket before taking out a pair of familiar car keys and placing it on the table. They belonged to Cas.

"Listen, I gotta head home. Your car's at the parking lot, A12." He said, taking one last look at Cas before making his way out the door.

Cas sat there in his bed, wondering how Dean got hold of his keys, and then figured Dean probably took them from his jacket pocket while he was asleep. Cas felt the need to say something before Dean left but swallowed his words instead. He let his head fall back to the pillow and sighed. It was odd, he thought, how he could meet someone a second time this year by accident, barely even knowing them.

The sound of footsteps coming closer filled the room, before Dean poked his head at the side of the door. Cas looked up with quirked eyebrows. "Did you leave something?" he asked.

Dean laughed nervously. "Nah, just uh. Next time I see you, Cas, neither of us be beaten up, alright?" he said, winking before exiting once more.

Cas felt his face blush. _'Next time, huh?'_

* * *

><p>He shut his eyes and leaned against the nearest wall, inhaling in the smoke that looked incredibly visible outside at night. It had probably been a year since the last time he lit a cigarette. He needed one, badly. Cas shivered at the pleasure that ran through his body, letting the floating smoke slightly poke at his eyes as he breathed in once more. He let his arm hang loosely at his side, his fingers tracing the mouth of the bottle he held beside him. He looked at the cigarette and bit the inside of his cheek. He had to stop then, he knew it. He sighed and let the stick fall out of his hands and onto the sidewalk.<p>

He held the half empty bottle in his hands, still, taking a sip every once and then as he walked. He decided to take a week off hunting, and Omaha was the only place he could go to. He had a relative there who let Cas stay at his apartment for the week. It was his third night off work, and he wasn't getting much done, just as he thought he would.

Cas leaned against his car and thought to himself about a lot of things. He thought about hunting, his life before and after. He thought about the little amount of family he had left, and the possibility of losing another anytime now. It had been weeks since him and his sister made contact before she suddenly dropped comatose. The doctors still had no clue on what had caused it.

Cas jerked his head to the right as he heard the sound of glass shattering, followed by other things being thrown around. He turned and walked to the direction of where the noises came from. He reached for the gun in his trench coat as he stepped closer and heard coughing in the distance. The noises stopped then, but Cas could easily tell it came from the antique store, which he stood just a metre away from. He entered the store, taking a couple of steps after studying the room fully. He walked in further and held his gun firmly. He heard the coughing again, louder this time. It came from behind the counter.

Cas swiftly stepped forward and pointed his gun at whoever or whatever was behind the counter. He sighed, shoulders dropping as he placed the gun back in his coat. He squinted his eyes at the unconscious body that lay in front of him and took a closer look. When he realized who it was, his eyes rolled to a maximum level.

"You have got to be joking me."

* * *

><p>Dean sat up on the couch after he'd been asleep on it for what seemed like forever, rubbing his eyes and temples in the process.<p>

"Dean?" Sam hovered his body forward, sitting in a chair beside the couch. "Dean?"

Bobby sat at his study and looked up, eyes glued to a book before. Bobby got up from his desk and with an aggravated tone he interrogated, "Dang it, boy! We thought you'd never get up!"

Dean wore a confused look on his face, stitching his eyebrows together as he yawned. "What do you mean? How long was I out?"

"Dean- you've been asleep for two and a half days."

Dean looked at his brother, then to Bobby. He chuckled. "You're joking, right? It couldn't have been more than ten hours-"

"Sixty-one hours, Dean. You were out for sixty-one hours," Sam said, looking at the clock; 1:19 pm.

Dean's eyes widened at the fact and a sudden hunger arose in his stomach. "Wow, I definitely need something to eat," He said as he got up from the couch and made his way to the fridge. He could already sense Sam rolling his eyes into his back. "So uh, what the hell happened to me?" Dean asked, calling out from the kitchen as he grabbed a sandwich from the fridge and chugged down a glass of water.

"You tell us, boy. What's the last thing you remember?" Bobby asked.

Dean came back to the room with a sandwich in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He sat back on the couch and explained, "I was working on that- witch case, I think. Psycho bitch probably drugged me or something, I don't know. I just remember feeling this sharp pain in my throat."

It was odd, the way he explained it. He didn't know what really happened himself. Dean noticed the exchange of looks Sam and Bobby gave each other. "What?" he asked.

Sam opened his mouth first. "If it was a witch, Dean- why aren't you dead?"

Dean thought for a moment, why _wasn't_ he dead? Why would the witch leave him unconscious for days instead of just killing him?

"Look, I don't know. I really don't. And- how did I get here, anyway? That job was like in- Omaha," Dean said curiously, before taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"Well, this is gonna sound unusual," Bobby said as he leaned his back against his desk. "A fellow hunter found you. Unconscious and bloody at some antique store. He called your brother using your phone and told him about the situation. Then he brought you here. I'm surprised he had the patience to drive three hours here to save your sorry ass," he added, scoffing at the last sentence.

This wasn't making any sense to Dean. "Hmph. So what, some _hunter_ comes to my rescue _and_ drives all the way from Omaha just to make sure I was okay?" he said, turning to Bobby.

"That's what happened," Bobby said, shrugging his shoulders. Dean chewed on his sandwich before a certain thought came to mind. "Where's my car?" he asked, eyes wide and mouth stuffed.

"Relax, it's outside. He used your car to drive you here," Sam said as he let his eyes wander anywhere but at Dean, knowing how Dean would react.

Dean swallowed his food before he spoke, "He _what_-wait- you guys let some stranger drive my car?" He made a gesture with his hands as his eyes widened as well.

"He ain't a stranger, Dean. He's a friend of mine. Besides, appreciate what he did for you, the guy had a week off," Bobby reasoned, folding his arms before doing so.

Dean still thought about it and sipped his water. "This hunter, do I know him?"

"Well I didn't think you did, he's new to hunting. But apparently, he knows you. His name's Cas," Bobby stated, eyeing Dean.

Dean looked up from his glass when he heard the name. He paused, biting the inside of his cheek. "Cas as in- Castiel, Cas?"

Bobby nodded. "So you do know him."

Dean lowered his eyes to the floor. "Yeah, it's weird. I bumped into him at Rapid City just about a couple of weeks ago- saved the guy from a spirit, actually," He remarked, squishing his eyebrows together as the weird thought stuck with him. "That wasn't even the first time we met. A few months ago, the guy shot a werewolf that was out to kill me," Dean continued, shaking his head.

Sam smirked as he got up from his chair and grabbed the crutches next to him. "Maybe you two were destined to find and save each other," he joked, knowing Dean hated the 'destiny' talk.

"Shut up before I snap your other leg in half as well," Dean said before taking the last bite of his sandwich. Sam smirked and made his way to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him.

Dean then turned to Bobby, who had been eyeing him for a while. "What?" he asked, getting up from the couch.

"Dean, what's going on with your hunting lately?" Bobby asked quietly.

Dean clenched his jaw. "Nothing, it's going fine," he lied, looking at Bobby straight in the eye.

"I mean, you've been skipping nearly every case before this," Bobby implied. "On your last case you nearly killed yourself over and over, heck, you would've if I got there five seconds later, and now you get knocked out easily by some witch?" He elaborated with a worried tone in his voice.

"Hey, do not underestimate those witches, they are insane enough to kill you for fun," Dean said, twisting around the subject as he turned his back to Bobby.

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Dean, I'm serious. You gonna talk real with me for a second here, son?"

Dean sighed at Bobby's words and turned to face him, pausing for a second. "I don't really know, okay? Maybe it's because I'm just 'rusty' or I hunt different when I'm alone and not with Sam- I don't know, Bobby." Dean sat back on the couch, touching his temples with his eyes closed.

Bobby sighed and opened his mouth to say something but swallowed his words when the bathroom door opened. He then turned away from Dean and sat back at his study. Sam came in the room, walking with both his crutches supporting him. He leaned against one and pointed the other at Dean. "You've been on that couch for nearly three days now. Move, it's my turn," Sam retorted.

Dean rolled his eyes as he got up and walked to the kitchen again when his stomach growled. He opened up the fridge and a look of disappointment showed on his face. He closed the fridge shut and walked out, grabbing his car keys when he spotted them. "I'm gonna grab something to eat, you guys want anything?" he asked, checking the amount of money he had in his wallet.

"Nah, I'm good," Sam said, lying his head back against the arm of the couch with his eyes shut.

Dean turned to Bobby for a reply before he realized Bobby had just answered his cell phone. "Oh, heya Cas- yeah he's awake alright, he says _thanks_ by the way," Bobby said into the phone, glancing at Dean as he stressed on the word 'thanks'. Dean listened in, unsure of how he felt about this.

"You wanna talk to him?" Bobby asked Cas to the phone. For a millisecond, Dean froze. He couldn't talk to Cas, not right now, not without thinking of what to say first. He shook his head many times and did a couple of hand gestures under his neck to let Bobby get the hint. Sam snorted and held back as many chuckles as he could.

Bobby rolled his eyes as he spoke into the phone, "Oh you know what- he just went out. Yeah. I heard, good luck with that- gotta be careful around them, though. Yeah thanks- bye." Bobby hung up the phone and turned his head to Dean. "You got a middle school crush on the guy or something, Dean? Don't worry, I'm _sure_ there's a possibility he feels the same way," Bobby joked, failing to suppress the small smile on his face.

Sam let out a laugh as Dean glared at him. Dean thought about any possible comebacks while he opened and closed his mouth.

"No. Quit it, you two," was all he managed to say, pointing at the both of them while they chuckled to themselves.

* * *

><p>Jo stood in between the two men, who both looked as if though they had just received some shocking news. She cleared her throat. "So, I'm guessing you two know each other?" she asked, folding her arms across her waist.<p>

Dean was the first to break eye contact, turning his face to Jo. "Uh- yeah, kind of, I guess," he stammered, eyes wandering to the ceiling.

Cas nodded awkwardly, turning back to the front of the table in his seat as he still said nothing. Jo turned her eyes to Cas, then back to Dean, slightly smiling to herself before she clapped her hands on their shoulders. "Okay then- I'll get you guys a drink," she said, giving both of them a smile as she walked off.

Dean shortly breathed in then out, keeping his eyes locked on Cas as he pulled out a stool beside him. "So, you again," he said, as he breathed out a small laugh, slowly taking a seat.

"What are you doing here? Have you been following me?" Cas asked a little too quickly, looking up at Dean. It was easy to tell that Cas gave himself a mental slap in the face after that.

Dean raised his hands, not too high. "Woah- chill, dude. I was thinking the same thing about you," he said, looking away from Cas at mid- sentence.

Cas lowered his eyes and paused. "Yeah, sorry, I mean, it's just- weird. The last time I saw you was last week, that other case was a month ago, and honestly I'm having trouble remembering the first time we uh, met."

Dean shrugged. "Well, at least this time neither of us have blood on our face or a werewolf on our back," he said before smirking his way at Cas. Two opened bottles were put down in front of them as Cas was just about to say something.

"Thanks," Dean said to Jo before taking a sip. Jo smiled at him and turned her attention to Cas, reaching her hands for something in her pocket. "Cas, you wouldn't mind- locking up after Dean leaves, would you? It's late and I've been working the whole day today, my mom would never let -"

"I'll do it, it's probably my turn anyway," Cas notified, holding out his hand before the keys were placed in his palm.

"Thank you," Jo said and gratefully smiled before walking off.

Dean watched her leave and then turned his body back to face Cas. "You… live here?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Cas placed his right elbow on the table, slightly raising his bottle as he sighed. "Yes. For the time being, at least. I got a little careless and well- sleeping in my car isn't so comfy after a while," he said, taking a sip after.

Dean looked at him and nodded before clearing his throat. "Uh, thanks, by the way. What you did for me last week; no other stranger would've done that," he said quietly. Dean then studied the room; it had looked a lot different from the last time he visited. Chairs and stools were pushed in properly, and no stains were left on the furniture. They were the only ones in the room, and Dean hadn't even noticed how close they sat next to each other until he felt the hem of Cas' jacket slightly brush against his.

"It was just at Omaha, so, no big deal. Hopefully, _that _would be the last time either of us found each other in that kind of situation," Cas said before breaking into a small smile. "So, what are you really doing here?" he added, before taking another gulp of his beer.

Dean stared at him and thought to himself. He wasn't sure if he trusted Cas enough, and it was clear Cas didn't trust him much either. "Workin' a case. Was kinda hoping I'd get some info from Ash, but doesn't look like he's here."

"Yeah, Ellen and Ash are uh- out for a couple of days. Can't remember what for," Cas claimed, letting his eyes wander anywhere but at Dean.

Dean laughed softly at Cas' awkwardness. He looked cute like that, Dean thought. He'd noticed, from time to time they met, Cas was nervous around him, and so it was the other way around, even though Dean was clearly in denial to that. "What?" Cas asked, his voice faltering slightly.

"Nothing, nothing. Just…" Dean trailed off for a while, palming his own face as he placed his elbow on the table. "Who the hell are you, really?" he continued, smiling a little after that.

Cas' eyes gleamed in the lighting. The blue in the pair that stared into Dean's was a nice blue, hard not to notice the first time. They were a soft shade of dark blue that neared grey, and definitely, there was an interesting story held behind them. His eyes softened and held out a hand.

"Castiel Novak. Hunter of age…" Cas looked up and squinted, as if mentally counting. "29. Been to many places, fan of black and white films."

Dean smiled and shook Cas' hand, blushing as he accidentally let his thumb brush across Cas' knuckles. "Pleasure to meet you, my name's Dean Winchester. Turned 24 about eight and a half months ago-"

"No, you didn't."

"Fine, I'm 25."

"Nope."

"Alright, you got me, 27, I swear!" He said, laughing as he raised his hands in surrender. "Fan of classic rock, calming weather, and- Stephen King."

Cas blushed as he realized they were almost fully facing each other then, their knees centimetres apart from touching. He smiled; it had been a long time since anyone had introduced themselves that way to him. They both took another sip from their bottles.

"So, Cas- you hunt alone?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded. "Yeah. I mean I did have a partner the first time, for the first few days, at least. He uh- we didn't get along very much," he said, frowning softly.

"You don't get lonely, anyhow?"

Cas shrugged. "Nah, not really. It's gotten used to. I visit my sister every once in a while anyway."

The conversation was silent then, but the little amount of body language continued for a few minutes, smirks and glances hidden from the other. Dean looked at his watch. It was late, and he needed to get going.

Cas walked Dean out, hands in pockets. "I don't fully trust you, Dean. You don't trust me much either, correct?" he asked, tilting his head.

Dean smirked and bit his lip. "Correct. But that ain't stopping me…" his voice trailed off. "From finding out who you really are."

"I just told you who I really am," Cas said.

"Yeah, but we don't trust each other, remember?"

Cas laughed, "Right, right." They stopped in their tracks when Dean leaned his back against the Impala. "So, I'm guessing, no numbers?" Cas added.

"No numbers."

A chuckle escaped Cas' mouth. "You do realize how easy it would be to get contact of you though, don't you?"

Dean shrugged. "See ya around, Cas," he said, smiling before getting into the car.

* * *

><p>Cas watched him drive off and sighed to himself, shaking his head. He walked back to the Roadhouse and locked up, just as he had promised Jo. He cleaned up the place a bit, wiping the tables and picked up some crumpled papers that piled up in a corner. He headed to bed and shut his eyes, falling his head to the small side of the pillow, allowing sleep to take over.<p>

**Bzz.**

He was a light sleeper, even a phone vibration could wake him. He groaned and reached for his phone in his bag. He flipped it open and squinted his eyes at the brightness of the screen.

_**1 New Message**_

_This doesn't mean that I trust you. But fan of black and white films? Couldn't resist, sorry. -Dean_


	2. Fireflies

_There's a firefly loose tonight_

_Better catch it before it burns this place down_

_And I lie if I don't feel so right_

_But the world looks better through your eyes._

Dean sighed in pleasure as he felt the cold water splash against his face, washing off the remaining vampire blood that splattered on his forehead and cheeks thirty minutes before. He dabbed his face with a towel and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

He was dead tired, and he definitely looked it as well, the bags under his eyes heavier than ever. He'd been hunting day after day, travelling from place to place for hours to make up for the amount of cases he missed the past month or two. Sam still couldn't hunt, he had another couple of months left with his crutches. Eventually Dean got better at working alone; he used less and less energy the more he practiced, whether it were spirits, shape shifters or werewolves he was hunting. He was absolutely drained, though. He battled against four vampires that evening, beheading them one by one using a few tricks he learned along the way.

He returned to the motel soon after and took a short shower, rinsing away the sweat and blood produced from the hunt. He dried his hair and put on an extra shirt with a pair of pants he brought along, before relaxing his body as he fell back to the bed. He lay on his stomach, squishing his face into the pillow and dropped his eyelids. It took several tosses and turns through the night to get him to sleep.

He woke up the next day, squinting at the light that shined through the window. He let out a stretch before dropping his head back to the pillow and sighed, taking a few breaths after that. That was the best sleep he had in days.

**Tick, tock.**

Damn it, there was that annoying ticking again, he thought. He looked at the clock that read noon and reached his arm out to the bedside table to grab his phone. The screen flashed into his face, blinding him for a moment. He blinked a few times and squinted his eyes at the bright screen that read:

_**2 Missed Calls**__**– Unknown**_

Dean nearly jumped when the phone in his hand vibrated and rang. There it was again.

_**Incoming Call – Unknown**_

"Hello?"

"_Dean."_

It was an unexpected familiar voice, a voice he hadn't heard on the phone before. "Cas?"

"_Hello, Dean. Where are you?"_

Dean smirked. "What, you don't answer a single text message but you want to know where I am?"

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. _"I was, uh- I didn't think that- um," Pause. "Dean, we need to talk. In person."_

"Why?" he asked lazily, smiling sleepily into the phone. Cas sounded serious, but Dean thought he could push his buttons a bit further.

"_It's important. Don't— ask how important."_

"How import—"

"_VERY, Dean! Just tell me where you are," Cas demanded._

Dean pictured Cas' annoyed face and laughed to himself. "I thought you didn't trust me, and I didn't trust you?"

_Another silence. "I'm afraid we have to, now."_

"Hmph. But what if-"

"_God damn it, Dean, for once can't you— … I am not arguing with you on the phone. Is it- is it possible for us to meet anytime soon? I'm in Kirksville, Missouri."_

"Yeah, alright- fine. I'm not that far away, I'll be there," Dean said, sitting up in bed.

"_..Really?"_

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah, really. Why?"

"_Nothing, I just, I didn't expect it to be that- easy. Anyway uh, I'll text you the details?"_

"Yeah. Yeah you do that, sunshine," Dean smirked, winking before he realized Cas couldn't see him. He rolled his eyes at himself and hung up the phone before Cas could respond.

It'd been ten days since he last saw Cas at the Roadhouse. Cas had replied his texts once and once only, that being the first time Dean got hold of his number from Bobby and texted him. Though he never admitted it, Dean was the tiniest bit hurt by that.

'_202 E Jefferson St Kirksville, MO 63501. Call me when you get there?'_

Dean scanned his eyes over the text message several times before replying with, _'Sure thing.'_

He got himself ready and left Corydon, grabbing a burger for lunch on his way out. He called Sam and let him know he'd be home later than he thought. He drummed his fingers over the steering wheel as the music on the radio played, softly humming and singing along to the lyrics he knew.

After two hours of driving, Dean reached the address Cas gave him and stepped out of the car. He dialled Cas' number and looked up at the building. It was an apartment building, didn't look too new or old. A few other cars were parked outside, and people still walked the streets there.

"I'm here, where are you?" he said as soon as Cas picked up, walking towards the building.

"_Oh, uh- okay yeah, room 20A. First floor, third room to your left."_

"Got it." Dean headed inside the building and took a couple of minutes to find his way to the room. He stared at the number on the door and prepared himself by breathing in then out, before giving two light knocks to the hard wood.

Dean wore a confused expression on his face when he heard something fall from inside the room near the doorstep, followed by a muffled curse. Just as he was about to call out to ask if everything was okay, the door swung open.

Cas had a towel draped over his shoulder, his hair wet, breaths slightly heavier than normal.

"Hi- Dean, please come in," he said, moving aside as he opened the door wider. Dean smirked, noticing the many tiny hairs that stuck out of place at Cas' head. He stared at him up and down and also noticed Cas' shirt wasn't buttoned up properly, a few buttons closing in with the wrong hole.

"Well, don't you look terrific," he said before stepping into the apartment, taking a look around the place.

Cas blushed as he stared down at his own shirt, closing the door in front of him. "Yeah, sorry about-" He said, swirling his finger around at his hair. "All this. I didn't expect you to get here this early. Can I get you a drink?" he asked, motioning his head to the kitchen.

"Yeah sure, why not," Dean said, studying the place more. It wasn't big or small, but it was easy to tell that Cas hadn't paid much for it. Cosy and clean enough, though. It was just enough for a person or two to stay at. A couple of picture frames were placed at a small table that stood beside the couch, catching Dean's attention.

Cas nodded and headed to the kitchen, walking past Dean. Dean heard the fridge open and the sound of bottles rattling against one another. He turned around and saw Cas standing by the fridge, fixing the buttons on his shirt. Dean smirked when he caught a glimpse of Cas' tan stomach, and quickly looked away as Cas shot his head up forwards.

Cas came into the room with two bottles in his hands and smiled thinly at Dean, gesturing his head to let Dean have a seat opposite him before handing him a beer.

"Thanks," Dean murmured, taking a seat himself. He took a sip out of the bottle and gave a quizzical look at Cas, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Cas, is this- did you put fucking _holy water_ in this? Really?" Dean asked, looking at Cas with judgemental eyes.

Cas blushed, looking down at the floor in guilt as he rubbed the back of his neck. He shrugged, and lifted his eyes at Dean.

"I had to make sure?" he said, his sentence coming out as more of a question as he smiled apologetically.

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head, biting his lip to stop himself from smiling and laughing at Cas' awkwardness. He set the bottle down on the coffee table between them and asked, "Okay, so, what is it that's so important you had to tell me in person?"

Cas' opened his mouth, eyes wandering around the room. "Right. Um- I don't think there's any other way to put this- I'm gonna need you to hear me out, before you start throwing curses at me."

Dean slightly raised his eyebrows, hovering forward in his seat. "What is it?"

Cas looked at Dean anxiously and breathed in. "I think our family cases might be related."

"Come again- _what?_" Dean asked, after registering Cas' words into his head.

"My family, your family— they didn't die an ordinary death, Dean. They died the same way, and the demon that killed them-"

Cas was cut off. "A _demon_?"

"Yes, hear me out-"

Once again. "No offense, Cas, but I think you've got it wrong, my parents-"

"Your mother went first. She died in a house fire, on a Wednesday of December when you were four. It looked accidental, but it wasn't. _You know that._ Fast forward twenty years and three months, your dad doesn't return your calls. He goes missing. And exactly four days later, you find him in a ditch, no pulse, with barely any marks left on him," Cas explained and looked at Dean, who was silenced the whole time.

Dean's face had completely changed from before, his jaw clenching and eyes staring hard into Cas'. "How the hell do you know all that? And don't tell me it's because you've 'heard a lot' about me-"

"Because that is— _exactly_ what happened, to my parents as well. The only difference between our stories is that your father became a hunter, while mine didn't. And… that's not all," he said, getting up from his seat. It was insane, Dean thought. Cas had mentioned a few things only Dean and Sam would have known, and it couldn't have been anyone else that told him all that. Cas walked over to a desk that was pushed up against the wall and grabbed a bunch of papers. He walked back and set them on the coffee table.

"The demon— he's called Alastair. He's done the same thing to other people; ordinary people, Dean. I've talked to them. Look at this." Cas pointed to a map, that had a few scribbles here and there. "The crosses mark where each of these people were born and raised. One in North Dakota, one in Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois…"

"All from the mid-west," Dean stated, studying the map further.

Cas nodded. "That's right. Including you and me."

Dean looked up and faced Cas. "Alright then, tell me. How did you find out about this 'Alastair'?"

"I ran into and got a couple of people- things, to talk. Demons, basically. Look, this was harder to explain than I thought and I'm probably not making much sense to you and you're not going to trust me anyway— so…" Cas trailed off, frowning before turning away from Dean, attempting to hide the loss of hope in his eyes.

Dean eyed him, biting his tongue to prevent anything stupid from coming out of his mouth. He waited a few seconds.

"I might just believe you." Oops.

Cas turned his head first before fully facing Dean and opened, closed his mouth. He took a deep breath and still couldn't get out any words, his eyes lowering to the floor. "What?"

Dean leered up at him and stood up from his seat, sighing. "Okay so, let's just _say_, I do believe you. What do we do then, huh? Hunt down this demon— together?" he asked, focusing his eyes onto Cas' face. It looked as if Cas had shaved just yesterday, the tiniest hint of stubble starting to show. His hair still stuck out in the wrong areas and he still managed to look so damn-

"It's… what I've been really hunting for this past year. I'm not letting that thing get away with it, not anymore. I'm not going to let it hurt others," Cas said, sounding more confident as he finally made eye contact with Dean.

Dean half smiled at him and stepped forward. "Well then, would you have the honour to work with me to gank this evil son of a bitch, Castiel?"

Cas raised his eyebrows slightly as he stared at Dean's mouth before meeting his eyes again. "I suppose. Do you believe me entirely?" he asked.

"I suppose," Dean answered, repeating Cas' words.

"Good then."

"Great."

"…Good," Cas said again, nodding and smiling softly. He walked past Dean and grabbed his beer from the coffee table, taking a sip. Dean smirked and watched him.

Cas shook his head after taking that sip, laughing breathily as he placed the bottle back down on the table. "I didn't even see you switch our drinks. Really, Dean?"

Dean shrugged. "I had to make sure."

* * *

><p>"<em>So exactly how long are you gonna be gone?"<em>

"I don't know yet. This is- something real big, man," Dean said into the phone, pacing slowly in Cas' kitchen as he sneaked a peek at Cas in the living room, who had his hand on his chin as he stared at the screen of his laptop.

"_I wanna help."_

"Sam, you can barely lift your leg two inches in the air without looking like you want to poop."

An angry sigh was heard on the other line. _"This is the thing that killed Mom, and Dad, and God knows maybe it even killed—" Breathe in, out. "Look, I know I can't hunt, or walk, but you gotta let me do something. Please, Dean."_

Dean sighed. "We'll figure something out, 'kay? We always do, don't we?"

"…_Yeah- yeah, sure I guess."_

"Alright. Listen, I gotta go. I'll probably see ya in a couple of days, 'right? Bye." Dean frowned as he hung up the phone. He could tell Sam was upset by the sound of his tone, and he couldn't do anything about it. Dean shook his head lightly and put his phone back in his pocket, making his way back to the living room.

Cas glanced up from his laptop at Dean as he came in the room, before turning his eyes back to the screen. "Everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah- yeah, everything's fine," Dean said as he took a seat on the couch opposite Cas. He turned his head to the table next to him, and kept his eyes locked on the picture frames that stood on it.

One photo was in black and white, of a young couple who Dean assumed were Cas' parents. The other photo was of Cas standing in between a red haired girl and a young man, their arms hanging loosely around each other. The girl looked different from Cas, but she shared a striking resemblance to the woman in the black and white photo. The man, however, had a hint of similar features to him, although he looked slightly older than him at the time. Judging by Cas' appearance, the photo had to be taken at least five years back.

"This your family?"

Cas looked up and stared at the pictures beside Dean. "Yeah. My parents, brother, sister."

"Where are your siblings now?" Dean asked, glancing at Cas who went back to typing away on his keyboard.

Cas didn't respond and squinted his eyes at the screen, furrowing his eyebrows at the same time as if he had seen something odd. He hovered forward in his seat and turned his laptop around for Dean to see whatever was on his screen.

"Four suicides, all women, all dead a day before their wedding."

Dean changed his glance from the screen to Cas several times. "You wanna work an actual case?"

"Well, we can't just not- do anything until we find something on Alastair. I don't know how you hunt, and you don't know how I do either. We're not going to just walk in on this demon cluelessly," Cas said and pressed his lips together, observing Dean. Cas shrugged and looked away, adding, "I'm just saying- maybe it'd help if we got to know each other better."

Dean pried at Cas and then half smiled. "I'll tell ya something I do know about you. You're real bad at flirting. Cute, though. Anyway, tell me about this case. Where is it?"

Cas blushed and absent-mindedly widened his eyes. "I wasn't trying to-" He paused and halfway rolled his eyes, turning the laptop around to face him. "Greenville, Ohio. It says here that there was no connection found between the four women, but apparently all of them killed themselves the same way; self-poisoning. All within the same month."

"Self-poisoning like- taking in stuff like rat poison?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded.

"Well- alright then, let's check it out," Dean said, getting up from his seat. "Hey, you mind if I get a real beer?"

"Yeah, sure- please help yourself. I'll check if there are any flights to Ohio-"

"Woah, woah. Hold up. No planes," Dean said, looking serious as he pointed at Cas.

Cas raised his eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Just… no planes."

Cas shrugged his shoulders, sighing. "Fine. You drive eight hours, then."

* * *

><p>The first few hours of the drive was pretty silent, besides the sound of flipping pages as Cas had straight away brought out <em>To Kill A Mockingbird, <em>one of his favourite classics. He read and read and read, until he decided to stop at one point. He folded the corner of the page and shut the book, before placing it on his lap.

"You're not gonna finish it?"

Cas turned his head to Dean, who kept his eyes on the road. "I've been reading this since high school, I know what happens."

"What _does_ happen at the end?" Dean asked.

Cas thought for a moment. "Well- there's a lot more in the middle. But it ends with Scout and Jem getting attacked by Bob Ewell while walking home, Jem gets his arm broken. They get saved by Boo Radley. And some other stuff happens."

Dean nodded as Cas spoke. "Boo Radley as in the creepy guy who ate raw squirrels and cats?" he asked.

"Yeah, him. The squirrel and cats thing was just a rumour, though. Didn't you… read it for school?"

Dean smirked. "Well, I would've, if I sat for finals and stayed at one school for more than three months. Never got to- you know, finish it."

Cas shrugged and looked down, thinking of what to say. "You could borrow it one day, if you'd like."

"Yeah sure, one day," Dean said, his eyebrows going up before that. "What are your favourite black and white films?" he asked.

Cas raised an eyebrow at Dean, smiling. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because we're supposed to get to know each other."

Cas laughed softly as a blush came across Dean's cheek. He shrugged and looked to the right as he recalled the many films he had watched. "Right. Um, _12 Angry Men_. _It Happened One Night_. _To Have and Have Not…_ _Nosferatu_."

Dean shook his head and broke into a smile. "Nosferatu? Really, even up until now?"

"Guilty pleasure. Well the movie _obviously_ doesn't scare me anymore as much as it used to," Cas stated, looking over at Dean. "What are… your favourites of Stephen King?" he asked.

Cas watched Dean tap his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought to himself. "_The Stand, The Shining_. Oh- and _It_, because it scares the living crap out of my brother whenever I bring it up," Dean said and chuckled to himself.

"Your brother, Sam, right? How's his leg?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, well- careless kid fell the other day so, gonna take about another month or two before he can hunt again. How do you even know about his leg?"

"I met him, when he was in crutches. Remember? Found you in Omaha and brought you back to Bobby's. He seemed- nice," Cas said.

Dean's eyes flickered to Cas and then back at the road, laughing nervously. "Right, right, Omaha. Yeah, thanks again for that, I guess. Didn't trouble you, too much, did I?" he asked.

Cas blinked at him and pondered over Dean's words, sighing softly as he remembered having to carry an unconscious Dean out of the antique store without looking suspicious, and going through massive traffic on the way. "No. No trouble- at all."

He relaxed his shoulders as he leaned back in his seat and started to play with the hem of his jacket. "Um- Dean, just so you understand, I mean you can tell; I've been _busy_, this past week and I didn't exactly have much- time? To reply to your-"

"Save it, I get it- we don't need to go there. Besides, I mean, we're supposed to be- professionals here, right? Just, you know, strictly on the job," Dean said, his eyes shifting to Cas as his mouth formed into a small smile.

"Yes of course- professionals. Nothing else, absolutely," Cas stated, blushing and looking down as he realized he had made things ten times awkward. He heard Dean chuckle softly to himself.

Cas picked up the book from his lap and continued to read, or at least tried and pretended to. He read on for an hour and actually finished the book for what seemed like the tenth or twelfth time in his life.

A sigh came from Dean's direction just as Cas put the book away. "I thought you'd never stop reading. C'mon, you hungry?" Dean asked, slowing down the car before parking in front of a diner.

"Starving," Cas said. Dean got out of the car first, followed by Cas. A blush and a clench of the jaw was almost clear on Cas' face as he mumbled a thanks to Dean who smiled as he held the door open for him.

Cas ordered a bacon burger while Dean had a crispy chicken sandwich. They ate, had a weirdly comfortable conversation about burgers as that was the first time Cas had one in forever. They talked more in the car after that; about the case, Alastair, their favourite things, and the tiny habits they seemed to notice of each other within the few hours they spent alone.

They finally arrived at a motel in Greenville, Ohio four hours later. It was late, and they were both tired enough to sleep.

"Okay, so uh- we start all the visiting and the questioning and stuff somewhere before noon, that alright?" Dean said as he placed his bag beside one of the beds. He looked at Cas, who had already leaned half of his body against the headboard of the other bed.

"Yeap," Cas said, staring blankly at the space in front of him. He looked like he was going to sleep any time soon, but at the same time he seemed determined to keep himself awake.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at slightly tilted his body to get a better look of Cas' face. "You can sleep, you know," he said.

"I know. I will. But you have to sleep first."

Dean let out a laugh. "What, you afraid I might do something while you sleep? I ain't Count Orlok, not gonna suck on your blood. You sleep first," he said, crossing his arms after sitting on the bed.

Cas opened and closed his mouth and stuttered out, "I said I wasn't scared of that movie anymore. I- I'm older, so… you do what I say."

Dean snickered and rolled his eyes. "Seriously, that's the _only _thing you can come up with?" he said, shaking his head. Cas shrugged.

"Cute. Hmph, never really got to hear that from someone else, though; I was always the one saying it. Anyway, how about this," he said, leaning his body back against the bed as he elbowed the pillow. "You and I sleep, or at least pretend to sleep, right now."

Cas eyed Dean's position on the bed and bit his tongue to not get distracted. "How exactly does that change anything?" he asked.

"It doesn't. You know what, whatever, _I'll _hit the sack first- I'm dead freakin' tired," Dean said as he rolled over and lay on his stomach before reaching his hand out to switch off the lamp.

"I win," Cas quietly said, smirking to himself before turning his light out as well.

"I heard that," Dean mumbled into the pillow.

Cas turned his head and watched Dean physically doze off, even though it was dark, remembering the words he said earlier.

'_We're supposed to be professionals here, right? Just, you know, strictly on the job.'_

He sighed and pulled the blanket halfway over his body, shifting his body to get comfortable.

That night, he held his grip looser on the knife that hid underneath his pillows.

* * *

><p>"Dean, are you sure about this?"<p>

"Yeah, you'll do fine. Just, don't freak out or anything, I'll do most of it anyway."

Cas nodded and followed behind Dean. He took a few steps and pulled Dean gently by the arm. "But wait- it seems illogical, don't you think? You never see any feds that are our age and-"

"I said you'll do _fine_, Cas. You gotta learn and use this anyway, at some point of being a hunter," Dean said, smiling his way at Cas and continued to walk. "Ready?" he asked, stopping in front of the door step of the first house they were visiting.

Cas hesitated before nodding.

Dean gave him one more glance before he pressed the doorbell. Footsteps were heard before the door swung open to a middle aged man with brown hair and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

"Vincent Harrington?"

The man nodded. Dean pulled out his badge and motioned for Cas to do the same, flickering his eyes towards him. "My name's Agent Noble, this is my partner, Agent Hensley. We're here to ask you a few questions about your fiancée, Lindsey Ferris."

Vincent moved his eyes from the badges, studying them, to the floor, then to them and stepped aside. He held the door open wider and nodded, gesturing for them to come in.

"Gotta say, you both seem pretty young for federal agents," Vincent said as they both stepped into the house. Cas fidgeted and looked over at Dean, his fingers pulling on the hem of his own jacket. Dean noticed it and regarded him with a raise of the eyebrows. He hesitated before sliding his hand against Cas' when Vincent's back was still turned to them.

Cas quit it immediately.

"We're more experienced than we look," Dean said with a thin smile.

Vincent took a seat and invited them to sit on the opposite couch. "I don't understand, though, my fiancée- it was a suicide. What do the feds got to do with this?" he said.

"Well, with three other suicides happening within the same month in the same town, it's pretty suspicious, don't you think?" Dean said.

"I heard. Awful, the stuff that's been happening around here."

"Mr Harrington, did you or your fiancée happen to have any connection with the other victims? Sandra Lewis, Theresa Montgomery, Paige Knightley?" Dean asked, naming the victims one by one.

Vincent eyed the both of them and shook his head. "No, I don't think I've even seen any of them in person."

Dean nodded and flickered his eyes towards a rather quiet Cas. "Sir, would you mind if my partner, here, took a quick look around the house?"

Vincent let out a short sigh. "No, sure- go ahead," he said. Dean watched Cas get up from his seat before turning back to Vincent.

"Not much of a talker, your partner," Vincent softly said when Cas was looking around the drawers.

Dean chuckled softly. "Yeah, he's uh- more of the quiet and observant type. _Loves_ observing things, and people," he said.

Cas turned his head to Dean's direction and squinted at him, sending him a soft glare before walking into the kitchen.

Dean clenched his jaw before clearing his throat and moved his eyes back to Vincent who gave him a questioning look. "Anyway- any idea why Lindsey would do this to herself? Had she been acting strange or unusual before this?"

"Unusual how?"

"Unusual like- maybe avoiding contact with people, or sudden mood changes?" Dean asked.

Vincent shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I mean- she was just a normal woman who got back home late from work and went shopping with her friends on the weekends, I don't understand why she'd do this. She was so happy and- we were gonna get married and start a life together the next day."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Dean said before looking up at Cas who came back with something in his hand. Cas held it up for Dean to see and put it back in his coat.

A hex bag.

"Mr Harrington, what exactly did your fiancée work as?" Dean asked.

"She was a- restaurant manager, what does that have to do with this?"

"Just making every detail count. Anyway, we don't want to bother you any longer so, we'll be off. Thank you for your time, sir," Dean said, nodding before getting up from his seat.

Cas acknowledged Vincent and then followed behind Dean as they walked out. He pulled out the hex bag once they were out of sight.

"She was cheating on him," Cas said.

"What? How can you tell?"

Cas looked around and then pulled out a few envelopes from his coat. "Found these and the hex bag underneath the sink. They're recent letters- and pictures, from another man called Ricky, and well, they're kind of… explicit," he said, the slightest bit of blush appearing on his face.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and took the envelopes from Cas' hand. He shuffled through the photographs and widened his eyes. "Well Ms Ferris has certainly been getting home late," he said, smirking while he still ogled his eyes at the photos.

Cas looked up, adverting his eyes from the photos. "That is, a dead middle aged woman you're looking at."

"A dead middle aged woman with Ricky, who doesn't seem more than- hmph, 25, judging by his-"

"Moving on," Cas cut him off, snatching the photos from Dean's hands before walking past him. "Kenneth Greene, Sandra's would-be husband. See if there's a hex bag or any clues of an affair in the house," he said.

"You don't wanna see or find out where Ricky lives?"

Cas stared blankly at Dean. "We- or you, can visit Ricky later. Stay the night, if you want, really," he said firmly as he stopped and stood in front of the passenger door of the Impala.

Dean stopped in his tracks and smirked, raising his eyebrows. "What, you jealous already?" he teased, before swinging the car door open.

Cas shook his head and rolled his eyes before entering the car. Dean did his best to stop himself from grinning the next few minutes.

They drove three miles further and arrived at the second victim's house within a few minutes. They covered the same process, and another hex bag was found behind a fruit basket. Kenneth Greene admitted he knew about the affair that went on between his fiancée and her older boss, but it didn't bother him so much as he had done the same thing before.

"I don't understand, why would a couple like that want to get married in the first place?" Cas questioned when they were far enough from the house.

Dean sighed. "Sex, money? I don't know, things people do nowadays for 'em," he said. "And hey, looks like you're getting better at the whole fed thing, this time I didn't have to hold your hand the way through."

"Quit being a dick, there's no need for that."

They went to the other two houses and got more of the same results; a hex bag and hints of an affair. All four hex bags had an extra unusual ingredient in them; black liquid.

* * *

><p>"So, you know how to- do, work this kind of stuff," Dean said as he watched Cas work with the microscope.<p>

"Minored in biochemistry. I know a thing or two."

Dean raised his eyebrows, impressed. "So, you're smart."

"I prefer the word 'gifted'."

Dean smiled softly as he quietly watched Cas so focused on whatever was under that lens. He seemed to know what exactly he was doing. His eyes were still visibly blue, even when they squinted every now and then. His lips were parted just the slightest, as his hands switched between the two knobs. He seemed relaxed, but at the same time, the curiosity in his eyes said otherwise.

Dean quickly looked away when he was nearly caught staring.

Cas lifted and moved his head to stared at the drop of liquid on the glass slide, biting the inner part of his cheek. "That's weird."

"What is?" Dean asked.

Cas paused and shook his head. "No, nothing. I must've- seen it wrong," he said before hovering forward in his seat to squint into the eyepiece again. He turned the knobs gently and handed out his hand.

"Pass me a pencil and a paper."

Dean did as he was told, reaching out for the nearest available objects. He watched as Cas had so effortlessly sketched out whatever he was looking at. Cas narrowed his eyes at the drawing and slumped back in his seat.

"It's blood."

Dean looked at him, wondering if he heard right. "Blood? When you said you knew a thing or two about this stuff you didn't mean _literally_, right?"

"It's seriously blood, Dean. It's weird. See for yourself," Cas explained and put the drawing on the table between them. He got up and made his way to one of the drawers before pulling it open.

"Wait a minute, black blood, affairs— that sounds familiar, are there any weird marks on her stomach? Or chest, maybe?" Dean asked, turning to Cas.

Cas tilted his head as he lifted the sheet. "There's this octagon on the side of her waist. Could pass as a birthmark, though."

"Same for Theresa?"

Cas pulled out another drawer and did the same. He nodded.

"Thought so," Dean said as he typed away on the computer. He half-smiled at the results that came out.

"What is it?" Cas asked as he walked over to Dean and bent forward to see the computer screen. Dean smirked.

"Found our witch."

"Alright, thanks Bobby," Dean said into the phone before hanging up. He turned his head to Cas, who was lying slumped halfway against the bed. He had what looked like a mini sketchpad and a pencil in his hands, the pencil simply dancing across the small piece of paper.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, tilting his head as he smiled a little at how content Cas looked.

Cas' mouth formed into a tiny, innocent smile that made his cheeks look chubbier. "You should've seen the view last night. Fireflies, everywhere," he said, glancing up at Dean as he revealed a detailed sketch.

"Honestly- man, humour me, is there anything you _can't _do?" Dean asked, crossing his arms.

"Plenty of things. Painting, baking, golf. I can't make jokes either, so, people don't think I'm much of a funny person," Cas hastily answered, as if he had no verbal filter.

Dean smirked, raising an eyebrow. "You don't have to make jokes to be funny," he said. Cas smiled sadly and looked down at the same time, as if he was recalling something related. Dean noticed and swallowed.

"I think you're funny," he murmured.

Cas' eyes gleamed when they lifted to look at Dean. He stayed quiet as hints of red were present on both of their faces then.

"Anyway uh, _the case_," Dean said after shifting his eyes away from Cas. "According to Bobby, what's happening here is based on a legend. Happened in the late sixteen hundred's. The chick was apparently stabbed through the stomach by villagers when she was falsely accused of cheating on her husband. Before she was stabbed she said some stuff about taking revenge on 'those who are rightfully wrong'. And then well, black blood came out of her and she vanished."

Cas listened in when Dean explained. "So, what we're dealing with here is a possibly 400 year old witch who's seeking revenge on women who actually cheated? And for some reason she bleeds black blood?" he stated.

Dean shrugged slightly and nodded. "Guess so. We just have to figure out who it is."

* * *

><p>"She looks a little too disturbed for someone who just watered plants, don't you think?"<p>

"Do we follow her?"

"She's going in the house, c'mon."

"Dean!"

"What?" Dean turned around.

Cas hesitated and looked around before he whispered, "Are we breaking an entry?"

Dean tilted his head and blinked, shaking his head lightly. "What_ magical_ ways have you been using to hunt?"

"I don't-"

"Let's go," Dean said, nudging Cas by the arm. He walked further to the back of the house and peeped through the window.

"Dean."

"We'll be fine Cas, trust me, I've done this a hundred times-"

"No, Dean. Look," Dean heard Cas say, before his arm was grabbed, making him stumble slightly sideways.

Cas adverted his eyes to the direction of the other window. Through it Dean could see a bunch of unusual stuff gathered underneath a low chair.

Dean wore a disgusted look on his face. "What are those in the jars, spiders? Skulls of some small animal? Ugh, I hate witches."

They quietly entered the house through the back door. Cas had nearly run into a pile of glass bottles when they sneaked in, receiving a soft glare from Dean in return.

Dean gripped his gun tight as he walked further into the house. He watched the woman from the other room chant and slide a blade against her forearm, black blood oozing out of it onto a small piece of cloth.

"_Maledictus qui male egerunt,_

_Poena eorum longus et fortis,_

_Sic est voluntas…"_

The woman stopped her chanting and laughed. "You boys actually came," she said in a chilling voice. She lifted her head and turned around, shaping her right hand into a fist in front of her chest.

"_Fiat."_

Dean was already on the ground, clutching his stomach in pain before he and Cas could exchange looks. He coughed hard and attempted to look up before making a disgruntled face, letting out an aggravated groan.

"What did you do to him?" Cas interrogated, his face full of panic. He shifted a step towards Dean before he himself got thrown against the wall.

The witch sighed, tilting her head backwards as she did so. "Sorry. Gotta kill your friend. Boss' orders."

Dean started to cough out blood onto the floor.

"Stop this. Let him go, or I _will_ kill you," Cas threatened, his body still glued to the wall by an unusual force.

The witch beamed, swaying her head slowly from side to side. "Boss can't wait to meet you," she said.

Cas cursed to himself. "Who's your boss?"

The witch walked toward him, tilting her head sideways. "Oh, don't act as if you don't already know the answer."

Cas thought for a moment and breathed out, "Alastair?"

"Bingo!" The witch exclaimed in a normal voice, patting Cas on the cheek. She turned away from him and walked toward an almost unconscious Dean, who coughed slightly less as his eyes started to close.

"You see, those murders- those women, they deserved it. Boss gave me a choice, kill whoever I want. Drive you both here, make it a little easy to find me. And then well, kill your friend here, because he isn't needed-"

The witch was cut off when the cloth she bled onto set on fire. Its flames turned blue as soon as it lit up. The witch shot her head towards Cas, then to Dean, who gasped for air when he stopped coughing and bleeding.

"No," she whispered, her eyes turning wide with fear. "No, no!"

Cas was broken free from the force. He ran up to Dean and helped him up as they both stared at the witch rise with panic. The windows of the house swung open, wind breaking in. Lights flickered and buzzed as the witch stared at her own wrists that assumingly began to hurt.

"No no no no no, please!" she pleaded, the lump in her throat obvious. Black blood oozed out of her sudden slit forearms.

Her head snapped sideways with a crack before she could scream any further.

Both Dean and Cas stood there for a few seconds, catching a few breaths to register what just happened.

"Well, I'll be damned," Dean muttered, walking towards the witch's body that lay lifeless on the floor.

"Do you think maybe- Alastair did this?" Cas questioned, giving a pensive look to Dean.

"Why would he want to do this to an employee?"

Cas shrugged. "She did kind of, reveal him a little easily. Maybe he didn't want that."

Dean stopped and stared down at the dead witch, before looking up to walk further away. "Ay, whatever- I freakin' hate witches. Have we had lunch yet?"

"Dean, you nearly died a minute ago, do you not want to stop and think about this for a second?"

"I get it, I just survived possibly stage four, stomach cancer and there's this whole- Alastair thing that's up and about. But there ain't much we can find here, unless you want to bring little miss falsely-accused over here back from the dead and interrogate her as a zombie. Are you up for pizza? I'm up for pizza, c'mon."

Cas let out a short sigh, rolling his eyes as he watched Dean walk out of the house. He pressed his lips together and shook his head, admitting himself in defeat as he followed behind the slightly taller man.

This was going to be an unpredictable week.

Or month.

Or year.

* * *

><p>Dean surveyed the area around him in the car and looked over at the sleeping man that rode shotgun beside him. He looked content and normal when asleep, for someone who had seen a load of crap in one day. His hair had somehow fallen on his face throughout the drive, making him look younger and more innocent than he already was. Dean didn't want to wake him up, but he had to. This was where they were to part.<p>

"Cas," Dean whispered.

No response.

He tried again, louder this time, with a soft nudge to the arm.

"Castiel?"

Dean guiltily watched him shift his body and flutter his eyelids open the slightest. Cas sat up in his seat and rubbed his eyes fully open.

"We're here already?" Cas questioned, slumping back in his seat tiredly as he made a reach for his bag.

"Sorry to wake ya, didn't want to," Dean quietly said.

Cas showed a tired smile at him. "It's fine. Uh, thank you. For the ride, and everything else. I'll contact you if I- when I- …soon," he finished, glancing at Dean a last time before turning to reach for the door handle.

"Did it work?" Dean said.

Cas turned his head, his hand loosening on the door handle. "What did?"

"Getting to know me better," Dean lazily said, as he was tired as well. He tilted his head and half smiled at Cas.

Cas formed his mouth in a straight line, smiling shyly as he looked away. "Honestly, I'm still trying to figure out who you really are."

"Yeah? Same here, besides the fact that you're clearly multi-talented, and smart, and funny, and—" Dean stopped and bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from saying anything further. He blushed and looked down, clearing his throat.

Cas cast his eyes at Dean with a soulful look, beaming the slightest as if he was waiting for Dean to finish talking. "I should- go. I'll see you soon?"

Dean laughed nervously, looking up. "Yeah, yeah. See ya," he said quietly. Cas grabbed hold of his bag and got out of the car before Dean realized he had left something behind.

"Oh, Cas, you left your-"

The car door shut in front of Dean, and Cas was already walking his way out. Dean sighed and grabbed the object that lay vertically against the seat.

_TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD_

_HARPER LEE_

Dean smiled and looked out the window. Cas was no longer in sight. He turned the cover and smirked wider when he read the post-it that stuck on the contents page.

_**Tell me what you think about it the next time i see you, which is hopefully soon?**_

He pulled out his cell phone and typed away.

'_Soon.'_


	3. A Daydream Away

_It doesn't matter when we get back_

_To doing what we do_

_'Cause right now could last forever_

_Just as long as I'm with you._

Cas squeezed her hand tight and as he always did, he waited and hoped for even the slightest response. Anna lay still on the hospital bed, not a single movement made. His face dropped in disappointment as he got up and later pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Wake up soon."

He finally let go of her hand, smiling sadly as he took one last look at her before making his way out of the room. He hesitated before nodding in acknowledgement at one of the doctors who had tried to help.

He left the building and made his way to his car. He drove back to the motel he was staying at for the night, which was an hour drive away.

It was moderately cold that night in Madison, Wisconsin. When Cas got back to the motel room, he kept a couple of layers on, only removing his trench coat and hanging it by the door.

"Where've you been, sunshine?"

Cas whipped his head and turned to Dean who sat on a chair four feet away. "I went to visit my sister. I told you that."

Dean laughed in an unusual way. "I mean, where've you been, all my life?" he asked slurrily, his eyes open at the slightest as he kept them locked at Cas.

Cas' eyebrows furrowed as he observed Dean. He was slumped against the back of his seat, legs spread out with one arm across his waist. Cas' eyes darted to the small table next to him, where a tall bottle and several shot glasses stood at.

"Dean. Are you… drunk?"

All Cas got was a half-smile and look up in response.

Cas shook his head and sighed angrily. "I thought we had an agreement. Dean, I haven't touched a cigarette in weeks. You're not supposed to- drink, not _this _much. Weren't you the one who suggested we act like professionals? We're on a _job_ here."

Dean frowned.

"Don't be angry at me. I can't have you angry at me too, sunshine," he said, pouting his lips before he switched his glance to the bottle next to him.

Cas exhaled and rolled his eyes, grabbing the bottle in the process before Dean could even think about it.

"What is this- _vodka_? Did you seriously think that you wouldn't get drunk?" Cas scolded. He watched Dean drop his head down to his own neck.

Cas relaxed his shoulders and quietly sighed at the sight before him. "Why do you do this to yourself?" he whispered, lightly shaking his head.

Dean simply shrugged, looking sad and defeated for a moment before his eyes lit up.

"I know what we should do," he said while he looked up at Cas.

"And, what's that?" Cas questioned, folding his arms across his waist.

"Spin the bottle."

"There are only the two of us here, Dean."

"_Exactly."_

Cas let his eyes wander and slightly blushed at the thought before he remembered how hammered Dean was. "Alright- that's enough. You won't remember half of this in the morning. Go to bed now, or I'll—"

"Take me there," Dean muttered, a smirk playing hard across his face as he held out his forearm. If it wasn't for the hiccup that followed after that, Cas could've sworn he was actually sober and serious about it.

Cas stared down at the hand that floated in mid-air inches away from him, before grabbing Dean by the arm not too forcefully.

Dean got up instantly, stumbling a bit before Cas stabilized him.

"You're a real dick to work with sometimes. You owe me for this," Cas muttered against his breath.

Dean mumbled an 'I know' in response.

Cas reached out for a water bottle from his bag and placed it in Dean's hand.

"Hydrate yourself before you sleep."

Dean ignored the bottle in his hands and shifted his eyes towards Cas. "You know, Castieelll…" his voice trailed off at Cas' name, which he hung onto a bit too long.

"What?" Cas patiently asked as he walked, or practically dragged, Dean toward the bed.

"I think you're a pretty hot blue eyed babe."

Cas had nearly dropped himself _and _Dean to the floor then.

He couldn't suppress the laugh that escaped his lips, his face flushed at the same time. "Wow. How many shots did you have?"

"Three."

"Liar."

"Plus two, times one… that equals, seven."

Cas sighed. "You're gonna have one hell of a morning tomorrow," he said as he let Dean fall back on the bed, the unopened bottle of water still in his hand.

Dean shifted his body to get comfortable, laying on his stomach with his face mushed against the pillow. Cas bit the inside of his cheek, barely taking a step away, before a hand quickly grabbed onto his.

"Dean? What are you-?"

"Stay."

Cas let his hand stay there as he spoke firmly, "This is a small motel room. My bed is not more than five feet away. I need sleep too, Dean. I am not taking any more of your cra-"

"Please," Dean innocently mumbled, an eye peeping open at Cas.

_Don't. Don't. Don't._

"Two minutes. Drink your water."

_Damn it._

Dean smiled into the pillow, hiding half of it as he dropped his hand to the side of the bed.

"Know why I call you sunshine all the time?"

Cas hesitated.

"Is it something I _should_ know?" he asked, folding his arms across his waist as he leaned against the wall.

Dean chuckled lightly, slightly muffled as he pressed his face further into the pillow. "It's cause I-" he hiccupped.

"You… what, Dean?"

"I don't know. I just- I really just… you probably already know the answer."

Cas mouthed a 'what' followed by an uncertain curse, and backed up from the wall, intending to ask Dean further on what he meant. He let it go and stepped away when Dean gave out a yawn, as there was no use interrogating a drunk Dean, at this time of the night, especially.

"Good night, Dean."

"Night- blue eyes."

* * *

><p>The second Dean rolled over in bed and lifted his head it hit him.<p>

"Jesus- fuck," He groaned, his hand shooting up to his temples.

His head was throbbing, hard, as if he had a second heartbeat present in there. He lay his head back down on the pillow and grunted, recalling the blurry sight of a shot glass meeting his lips several times.

"I told you to hydrate yourself. You never listened."

Dean whipped his head to the right to see Cas walking over to him with a glass and a plate in his hands. His eyes moved up when Cas drew nearer to him and placed the objects on the table.

"Wha-?" Dean only managed to get out, as he braved himself to sit up. "God- fucking, _damn it_, my head's about to explode," he cursed, scrunching his face as he lay his back against the headboard.

"That's what you should have considered before you took seven shots of vodka."

Dean sighed as he faced Cas apologetically. "Yeah, I know, I'm-" he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, we made a deal. I got no excuse, okay? It just happened and- it won't again."

Cas stayed quiet and looked away.

"C'mon, you're not gonna stay mad at me forever, are you? I know you can't," Dean said, smiling hopefully at Cas.

Cas rolled his eyes and faced Dean with a half-suppressed smile. "Shut up. Drink, eat." He passed Dean a full glass of water and a plate of what looked like crackers and toast.

Now that Dean noticed it, his stomach came to an uneasy sensation. He gulped down half the glass and rubbed the space between his eyes, squinting at the throbbing pain that beat continuously.

He stared at the plate and shot a questioning look at Cas. "Are honey crackers and toast supposed to help?"

"Yes. I know from experience."

Dean huffed and sat in silence as he ate, while Cas had gone to the kitchen and returned with a water bottle.

"Aspirin. It'll help with the nausea and headache you're feeling. Drink, a lot," Cas said as he refilled Dean's glass full and later placed a round pill on the side of his plate.

The last time he had a serious hangover, Dean swore at every breath he took. Sam's frantic voice had annoyed him to the maximum at the time, and it took nearly a day before he started to feel better. That was all years ago though, when his drinking got out of control. He never thought he'd have to face a hangover again.

Talking didn't feel so great, but he couldn't block Cas out just like that, after all he'd done for him. He cleared his throat and peered up at Cas, who kept his gaze locked on him.

_How are your eyes still so blue?_

"Thanks- Cas," he patiently smiled at the man who stood before him and shrugged in return. "Really, I- I know I screwed up. You didn't have to do all this, but you did, so- thanks."

Castiel walked away from Dean to the desk full of documents, turning away from him. He sighed and huffed a laugh. "Well, I guess I can tolerate your lack of thinking a little more after hearing you call someone a- 'pretty hot blue eyed babe'."

He probably heard it wrong, Dean thought. His head hurt, and his body felt like crap, so he was most _definitely_ hearing things. There was no way those words came out of Cas' mouth, but then again Dean had always wondered about the many things Cas said he thought he had clearly misheard, when he didn't.

His face flushed red in embarrassment, mouth left agape, and the alcohol in his system probably made him look worse.

"Did I now?" He laughed nervously. He shook his head in disbelief and exhaled another laugh, rubbing the back of his neck edgily.

He swallowed hesitantly before meeting Cas' slightly smug look on his face. "Yeah, sorry, I guess- I uh, I'm not the most sensible person when I'm in that kind of state. I didn't say, or do anything else, weird, did I?"

Cas lowered his face to the floor, his mouth curling up the slightest bit before looking up again, shaking his head. "No, not really. You pretty much, passed out after that."

Something about Cas' expression made Dean think there was something else not being told, but he nodded and shrugged it off anyway. It probably wasn't something to bother much about, especially when his entire body was drained up to that level.

It could've been worse.

No, scratch that. It couldn't, because Cas was too much of a nice person to let someone feel embarrassed for long. Dean wouldn't have let it go so easily if the same situation were to happen the other way around.

"What time is it?" Dean asked, shaking the thoughts away from his head.

"Quarter to eight. You probably need another few hours of sleep."

Dean gulped down his last bit of water. "But- what about the case? That rugaru's leaving town in a couple of hours, probably earlier now that he knows we're here."

Cas wandered his eyes to the side of the room, and shrugged slightly. "I can- burn the guy myself, I guess."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head while he pressed against the bed to get up. "No man, screw sleep, I can't just -aah, _damn it_!" He exclaimed, squinting at the heavy, painful throbbing at his head as he sat back down.

"You're in no condition to fight a rugaru, Dean. It's fine, really," Cas assured while he picked up his duffel bag.

Dean swallowed hesitantly. He thought of any excuse he could think of, but none of them were rational enough to debate on.

"Fine. Just…" He trailed off, while Cas tilted his head to wait for a response. "Be careful," He finished, clenching his jaw while he looked down at his hands, and then back to Cas.

Cas stood there and stared at him, lips parted the slightest before its corners lifted up when their eyes came to a meeting.

"I will. You- get some sleep," he said, heading his way to the door.

"Be careful," Dean repeated.

"Yes, Dean."

"Call-"

Dean sighed, staring at the lonely room in front of him. "Call me when you're done."

* * *

><p>Dean got up from his seat as soon as the door opened and took several steps towards Cas. He observed as the other man held his bloodied shoulder tight and cursed to himself.<p>

"Damn it, Cas, what the hell? I thought you said you were okay!"

"I am, it's just a minor laceration."

Dean shook his head and walked closer to him. "Minor, my ass. Lift your hand, let me see."

Cas rolled his eyes, shifting his gaze from Dean to the wall as he pulled the collars of a few layers aside and let his palm float above his right shoulder, revealing an open cut upon it.

Dean looked at the gruesome mark agitatedly, and tilted his head to get Cas' focus back. He raised his eyebrows and made a hand gesture at him, waiting for a response.

"What? It'll heal," Cas attempted.

"Trust me buddy, you do _not_ want to get an infection on that," Dean said, heading for the door.

"Dean, I- where are you going?"

"Your car. To get supplies."

Cas sighed as Dean left, shutting the door behind him. He squinted, wincing at the pain on his shoulders while he carefully sat on the bed and leaned his back against the headboard.

He stared at the blood stains on his shirt and made a disgruntled face at how unpleasant the careless rugaru's bite looked.

Whatever, it could've been worse.

Dean came into the room a couple of minutes later, his hands clutching onto a small red box with a white cross on the top of it.

"Hm, you know- this thing you own is honestly adorable. It's tiny, but it can save lives."

Cas raised his eyebrows at him and cracked a smile. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks that way."

Dean glanced at him, returning a small smile before looking down. "Alright- let's get this over with. Layers off," he ordered, pointing to Cas' attire.

Cas looked down on himself hesitantly and then back at Dean with a raise of the eyebrows. He exhaled, attempting to remove his trench coat with one arm only, minimising movement of his right arm.

Dean fought a smile as he watched Cas struggle. "Do you um, need help with all that?"

"No, I do not need help from you taking my-," Cas hissed and paused in his movements as soon as he realized what he was about to say, biting the inside of his cheek when he felt his face go hot. He adverted his eyes _away_ from Dean, who had instantly shut up and made his way to the sink.

Cas stood up as he removed the outer layers, leaving a grey t-shirt the only top he had on and threw them stubbornly at the end of the bed after having to struggle with them. He caught Dean's gaze, and as usual, Cas had noticed, Dean quickly looked away.

"What is it?" Cas asked in a low tone, walking towards where Dean stood at the sink.

Dean shook his head, turning on the sink and waited for the right temperature of water while he washed his hands. "Nothing. Just, I don't usually see you without all the layers. Every time I woke up in the morning you were all dressed and ready to go."

He opened up the red box on the table and let his fingers float above it, before selectively reaching out for a washcloth. Cas leaned against the table, holding onto his shoulder while Dean dampened the washcloth as he ran it under the sink.

"How's your head?" Cas asked, motioning forward and pulling up his sleeve as Dean gestured him to.

"Better now. The last time I didn't recover so easily. Hold still," Dean said. He held Cas by the arm and steadied him against the sink.

Cas looked away when the washcloth met with his torn skin, tensing up his muscles at the slight pain.

"Easy there. Just water," Dean assured in a quiet voice.

Cas breathed in and out, relaxing his body. He stared down at Dean's concentrated hands as they patched up his shoulder with a bandage. Dean and him were standing so close to each other, simply inches away from touching, probably the closest they'd ever stood together. If both of them looked up at the same time…

"Okay. You're good to go," Dean said, pressing the bandage firmly one last time before he flickered his eyes to Cas. Both pairs of eyes met before they went slightly wider at the surprise of how actually close their bodies were next to each other.

"Thanks," Cas murmured and showed a faint smile, softening his eyes as they broke contact with Dean's.

It probably wasn't what he wanted, Cas thought. Professionals, he thought. Professionals. But then again, Cas thought of the things Dean said to him last night when the alcohol still ran through his system like water. He hated the mixed signals Dean gave him, but he couldn't possibly say or do anything about it now, as much as he wanted to. They were getting closer and closer to finding Alastair, and they both knew they'd never forgive themselves if Alastair got away because of something coming in between them, good or bad.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes focused on Cas.

"No, why'd you think that?" Cas said, pulling down his sleeve as he pressed himself against the table to step away from Dean.

From the corners of his eyes, he saw Dean shrug. "I don't know, since this morning it just feels like it. Something about- last night, maybe?"

"I told you. You passed out within a minute. Not much happened." Cas had a habit of not meeting a person's eyes when he lied, which gave it away most of the time.

Dean paused for a moment. "Okay then," he said, looking away as he started to arrange the things back into the kit.

Cas walked over and sighed in pleasure as his body relaxed on the bed, letting his eyes rest as well.

"Buy me lunch," he suddenly ordered, face remaining constant.

"What? We don't do that."

"You owe me. A cheeseburger sounds great. _Bacon_, cheeseburger, actually." Cas smugly smiled and opened his eyes to shift them at Dean.

Dean laughed sarcastically. "Hm, so uh, the patching up isn't enough to make up for me getting drunk? You could've gotten a serious infection with that thing."

"No, it doesn't. And I could've done all of that myself, anyway. I didn't ask you to."

"Well, you didn't stop me," Dean said as he eyed Cas teasingly, giving him a knowing look.

Cas stopped and thought of anything he could respond with. He looked away and shifted comfortably in bed, ignoring Dean's comment.

"Some iced tea too, while you're at it."

* * *

><p>They both sat in silence when Cas pulled over outside Bobby's. Dean reached for his bag from the backseat and looked out the window.<p>

"So, I'll see you soon," Cas said, smiling thinly at Dean.

Dean turned his head and nodded, returning the smile. "Yeah, soon. I'll see ya soon. "

He looked down at his hands hesitantly, pausing for a few seconds before looking back out of the window. Cas watched him, following his eyes.

"Not that I want you out of my car, but- people usually part ways when they say 'see you soon', correct?" Cas asked, tilting his head to get Dean's attention.

Dean laughed nervously and switched his gaze to Cas, fingers fiddling against one another. "Yeah, um- I was just thinking, wondering. You should-…" he trailed off. "Why don't you come inside for a while? Have a drink. Watch a movie, maybe."

Cas' mouth curled upwards as he looked down and thought about it for a moment.

He lifted his head in response before Dean started to ramble, "But hey- if you're not that kind of guy, which I sincerely doubt you aren't, but I don't know, you could be, I was just suggesting-"

"Dean."

Dean stopped and shot his head towards Cas, biting the side of his lower lip hesitantly with a hopeful look on his face.

"I was just gonna say… I'd like that," Cas finished with a laugh.

Dean's shoulders dropped as he laughed in slight embarrassment, followed by a sigh of relief.

"Alright then. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Sam held a can in his hands, offering it to Dean. Dean stared at it and then momentarily moved his eyes to Cas, who sat on the couch while he used his phone.<p>

"Nah, I'm good," Dean said.

Sam looked at him with a raise of the eyebrows. "_You're_ not having a casual beer for a movie?"

Dean shrugged and nodded. "I uh- just had one. I'm full," he said. He turned his head away, ignoring Sam's questioning look before walking over to the television set.

He shuffled through a bunch of DVDs in his hands and smiled when he spotted one. He turned halfway at Cas and held out the certain movie for him to see.

"Ay, found your favourite. You in the mood to watch a silent creepy ass vamp?"

Cas looked up and observed the cover, a grin appearing on his face. "Sure."

"Hm, you're not scared?" Dean teased and put the DVD in, before taking a seat next to Cas on the couch.

"I've beheaded their species several times, do you honestly think I'd be scared of a movie?" Cas scoffed.

Dean snickered and turned to Sam who smiled smugly at them. He leaned against his single crutch as he held a beer out to Cas, offering it. "Beer?"

Cas flickered his eyes to Dean's hands, noticing the absence of a drink in them. He turned his eyes back to Sam and shook his head. "I'm good actually, thanks."

He felt Dean's eyes on him, and in the one second he looked back, a small smile was present on both their faces.

Sam beamed at the sight, adverting his eyes from Dean, to Cas, and then to the both of them who sat far too close on a long couch.

He cleared his throat, "Know what, I just remembered; Bobby needs my help in the yard. You guys go ahead and just- enjoy the movie," he said and walked past them, ignoring the suspicious look on Dean's face.

"Right, because you'll sure get _hell _of a lot work done with a broken leg!" Dean sneered, turning his head to face Sam.

Sam's face looked surprised and offended at the same time, but he smiled it off anyway, sheepishly. "I am more useful than you think," he defended as he continued to pace. "There you go. Fresh from the microwave," he added, placing a bucket of popcorn as he came back not half a minute later.

Dean eyed him questioningly and got a raise of the eyebrows in response, followed by an advert of the eyes to Cas, who sat silently as he watched the opening of Nosferatu, focused on the screen. Dean shook his head unnoticeably at Sam, who replied with a nod.

Dean paused. He rolled his eyes at him and bit the inside of his cheek, shrugging slightly. Sam shot him a knowing look.

Before they could further communicate silently, Sam turned away and made his way out of the room, while Dean had somehow managed to make throwing a popcorn in Sam's direction look accidental. He turned back to the screen and held the popcorn between him and Cas.

Halfway throughout the silent movie Dean asked the necessary questions that Cas willingly answered. There were times when their knees touched, or when their hands headed for the popcorn at the same time, or when Cas had happened to sit back against the couch the moment Dean's arm hanged around the same place.

It didn't feel awkward or embarrassing when little incidents like that happened for them; they chose to simply go with it instead.

Dean felt a sore in his mouth as he rolled his tongue inside it. He grabbed his empty glass and got up from the couch.

"Water refill?" he offered, staring down at Cas who still concentrated on the movie.

Cas handed him the glass in his own hands and momentarily looked up at Dean. "Yeah, please, thanks."

Dean willingly took the glass and did a quick refill in the kitchen before peeping a look at Cas. An intense, creepy scene played on the television, and Dean had watched as Cas backed himself against the couch with his hands on his chin.

Dean smiled and bit his lip, quietly pacing to the back of where Cas sat. He didn't get too close, because even the slightest breath could give him away. He waited for the silent scene to get creepier, finding the right moment of Nosferatu standing intimidatingly by the door before he let out a single word.

"_Nosferatu!_"

Dean threw his head back, laughing as he succeeded to make Cas jump in his seat. "God- damn it, _Dean_!" Cas exclaimed, mumbling a few unrecognizable curses after that.

He sighed in annoyance and shook his head as Dean continued to snicker behind him. "And you said you weren't scared," Dean teased knowingly before making his way back to the couch, offering the glass of water in his hand to Cas.

Cas grabbed it and squinted his eyes. "If I wasn't a nice person, I'd splash this in your face right now."

"Too bad you're a nice person then," Dean said as he smiled, sitting back on the couch.

Cas rolled his eyes, looking away as he failed to keep a grin in. He grabbed a couple pieces of popcorn from the bucket and forcefully threw them in Dean's direction.

"Dick," he muttered.

"What are you, five?"

"I should be asking you the same."

Dean found himself paying more attention to Cas rather than the movie after that.

* * *

><p>By the time the movie ended, Cas had the back of his head lying against Dean's arm on the couch with his eyes shut. He'd dozed off about half an hour before, and Dean didn't mind the soft tickles Cas' hair had landed on his arm.<p>

What he did mind was Sam walking in and giving him a knowing look.

"So. I see you're done with the movie, and…" Sam trailed off. He glanced at Cas for a moment and gestured at him with his head as he took a seat in one of the chairs.

Dean's eyelids lowered halfway. "What?" he sneered.

Sam shrugged and looked down on the paper he was reading, clearing his throat lightly as a small smile appeared on his face.

Before he could question it, Dean felt Cas' head shift closer. Cas' body had actually leaned towards Dean by then, his head resting near Dean's shoulder. Dean adverted his eyes to him, and then to Sam.

"What do I do?" he mouthed.

Sam smirked. "Just- move and put your arm down. It won't be that noticeable."

Dean bit his tongue as he carefully lifted his stretched arm on the couch and put it down by his side, his hand accidentally brushing slightly against Cas' fingers. He stared down at the two hands next to each other and smiled at the sleeping face next to him.

Cas sunk his face deeper into the cushions comfortably, his face content as ever. Dean continued to watch his features as he sneaked a slide of his pinky against Cas' fingernail. His face changed when he actually felt the weight of Cas' head drop on his shoulder.

"Well, that's great. Now I can't move," Dean whispered, turning his head to Sam.

"Just let him stay there."

"For how long?"

"Till he wakes up, duh."

"But I don't want him to freak out about it when he wakes up, he's—"

"Are you guys into each other?"

Dean paused. He wandered his eyes around the room and shook his head. "No."

Sam nodded and said quietly, "Hm, right. So you two just happened to sit so close on a three-seated couch, and look at each other like you're about to—"

"Damn it, Sam, he could be listening. So shut your cakehole, will you?" Dean hissed.

Sam raised his hands in surrender and focused his eyes back to the paper.

Dean sighed and let his head sink into the cushions as he rested his eyes.

"Seriously? I swear I could take a picture right now."

He peeped an eye open at his brother. "You do that, and you're a man with a broken leg _and_ nose," he quietly threatened before shutting both his eyes back.

Dean cursed in his mind when he heard Sam's mischievous laugh followed by the shutter of a camera phone.

He heard and felt Cas wake up ten minutes later, the slight weight on his shoulder gone.

"Dean."

Dean continued to pretend sleeping, his eyelids making little movement as possible while his chest rose and fell at an arranged rhythm. Sam wasn't there anymore, he could tell by the shuffling of footsteps he heard earlier and the absence of newspaper pages flipping.

He felt Cas lean forward on the couch, followed by a vibrating sensation next to him. Cas sighed in aggravation as he picked up the ringing phone.

"Hello?"

A muffled, snarky voice was heard on the other end, and it didn't sound like any usual greeting.

"Well, good evening to you too, Gabriel," Cas started.

It probably wasn't right, listening in to his conversations like this, Dean thought. It was definitely his queue to 'wake up' now.

"What are you talking about? We haven't seen each other in— where are you?" Cas snapped quietly. "I asked you first. –…Canada? What in God's name are you out of the country for?" he fumed as he got up from the couch and stormed to the kitchen.

Dean opened his eyes and sat up, curiously wondering who Gabriel was.

"Gabriel, I am not driving all the way to Winnipeg to- I just handled a case! –…Yes, of course I understand how urgent it is, I can see that you're calling me. Look- Fargo, North Dakota. I have a place there. –…Take the bus!"

Dean looked up as Cas came pacing quickly back into the room, shaking his head in annoyance at his phone. Cas paused in his tracks when he saw Dean and kept his phone away.

"Did I wake you?" he innocently asked.

Dean shook his head lightly. "Uh, it's fine, I wasn't really-… are you okay? Who was that?"

Cas sighed. "My brother. Gabriel," he said, rubbing the back of his head as he took a seat on the arm of the couch.

"Your brother, as in, the brother you hate talking about?"

Cas nodded. "He's asking to meet up, says it's urgent. Now, I have another three hours to drive."

"When exactly was the last time you spoke to him before this?" Dean asked.

Cas shrugged and counted in his head.

"Two weeks ago. Before that, a year and two months, maybe."

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh. So uh, I guess you're taking off then," he said, smiling thinly at Cas.

He got a nod in return and they both made their way out of the house.

"Cas, do me a favour? _Yourself_ a favour," said Dean. Cas moved his glance to him and tilted his head questioningly, waiting for Dean to continue.

Dean sighed. "You've done a lot this week. For me, for the case. So, take a break. Seriously, it's one of the two reasons I invited you in. I know we're getting close on ganking Alastair but, I'm just saying, don't lose your head over it, 'right?"

Cas stared back at him in silence as the corners of his mouth met his cheeks. "This is the first time I'm hearing such reassuring words from you. Thank you, Dean."

"Yeah, shut up. Get out of here," Dean said with a breathily laugh.

"What was the other reason, you invited me in?"

"I don't need to answer that, you dork. Go."

Dean tapped Cas' shoulder and gave one last smiling glance at him. He watched him take off and then went back inside, as to no surprise, Sam was back in the living room.

"Wow. Still smiling from cheek to cheek all the way back," Sam teased.

Dean's smile half-wiped away from his face. "Okay, go. You got one minute, ask whatever crap's on your mind."

"You're into him."

"That's not a question, Sammy."

"Are you?"

Dean turned to him and paused as he thought of words to say.

"I mean, he's-"

"I knew it!"

"Dude, I didn't even say anything yet!"

Sam smugly smiled up at Dean and waited, tilting his head.

Dean crossed his arms across his waist and looked anywhere but at Sam.

"Yeah, maybe," he mumbled.

"Maybe?"

Dean shrugged. "It's- complicated. I'm not even entirely sure if he swings that way."

Sam lowered his eyes and shook his head. "Either you're lying, or you're really stupid."

"What? Pretty sure he's been with a girl before, he's mentioned them."

"How is that even— you've been with a few yourself! And, maybe he- swings _both_ ways, too."

"Wow Sam, ain't that a wonderful way to put it. And yeah, fine, of course the dude's got a little thing for me. But I mean— you know me, I'm not an expert at healthy relationships. I don't exactly have great contact with people I've been with, past tense."

He continued as Sam nodded through the conversation. "Cas and I; we're great as friends, and we make one hell of a team. I just—"

Dean hesitated as he thought about what he was saying, and what he was about to say.

"I don't think I'll ever be ready to ruin somethin' like that."

* * *

><p>"Wow, you look like hell."<p>

"Hello, Gabriel."

"Hey."

Cas pushed his way aside as he entered the place. He looked around at the familiar, grey, atmosphere and turned to face the man standing at his doorway.

"How'd you get in?"

"Really, you're asking _me_ that? No offense but, not the best security system you've got here," Gabriel said, shutting the door behind him as he paced a few steps forward.

Cas sighed as he tested out the water and electricity in the house, which seemed to only partially work.

"What'cha hunt to get that shoulder?" Gabriel asked.

"Rugaru."

"With who, Dean Winchester?"

Cas looked up at the name and eyed Gabriel suspiciously while he paused for several moments.

"How do you…"

"Doesn't matter, I have my sources. Out of all the hunters out there, you decide to work with the _Ken _doll, aka Mr-Do-What-Daddy-Says?" Gabriel simply scoffed.

"What is that supposed— don't call him that."

"What-"

"Don't… call him that," Cas defended. He crossed his arms against his waist and looked at the floor, avoiding Gabriel's questioning gaze.

"Holy fish on a stick. Seriously?" Gabriel said, rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

Cas shook his head and rubbed his neck as he sat himself on a chair. "Whatever you're thinking-"

"It's no wonder you seem happier than usual. You like him," Gabriel concluded, smiling knowingly at Cas.

"Really? I could've sworn you said I looked like hell a minute ago," Cas said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Gabriel quirked his eyebrows. "Hm, you're talking different too. I don't suppose, you're starting to talk like _him_, are you?"

"I don't—"

Pause. Gabriel raised his eyebrows as he waited.

"This is not—"

Another pause.

"You didn't ask to meet up for some casual chat about Dean Winchester. You said it was urgent. We both drove three hours here, so stop pretending like we have plenty of 'catching up' to do, and get on with it," Cas firmly said.

Gabriel eyed him before letting out a short sigh of annoyance.

"Didn't think of you as the defensive type," he said. His hand searched his breast pocket before it slipped out a small folded piece of paper. He slid it across the table between them.

"What's this?" Cas asked as he unfolded the small piece in his hand.

On the paper wrote an unfamiliar address in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

"That my brother, is where, the demon Alastair has been staying at."

Cas' eyes widened. "How do you-"

"Sources. I know everything," Gabriel interrupted. "Now, what are you gonna do about this?" he asked.

"Damn it Gabriel, quit keeping things—"

Gabriel snapped his fingers once.

"Focus."

Cas irritatedly shook his head and rolled his eyes. "We go there. Follow a plan. Exorcise the demon."

Gabriel shrugged. "I don't exactly know who you mean by _we_, though."

"You, me, Dean. I can't keep this information from him, he's in this too," Cas said, eyes scanning over the address written on the paper.

"Yeah, but thing is; I'm not going with you."

Cas looked up. "What? Look, if this is about Dean, he's not what—"

"I can't go. I would, but—" Gabriel paused, lowering his eyes to the floor. "I can't."

"You can't?" Cas bitterly laughed. "You can't. That's- I don't even know what to say anymore. After everything that's happened, once again, you just _can't_."

"Cas, listen-"

"I shouldn't even ask anymore, 'cause it's always been that way, hasn't it? I can't ever, get a straight, truthful answer from you even at a time like this-"

"I go, you die!" Gabriel exclaimed. His shoulders rose and fell as he breathed, steadying his heartbeat.

Cas quirked his eyebrows and stayed silent. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Gabriel, _what_ did you do? What, or _who_ exactly are your sources?" Cas demanded, looking straight into his brother's eyes.

"I just- it's not anything to worry about, okay? But if I go, you die. _Anna_ dies. Do you really want to take that risk?" Gabriel lowered his voice.

Cas searched his brother's eyes for answers as he stayed quiet.

"What have you done?" he whispered.

"I promise, I'll tell you everything, but only _after_ you deal with Alastair."

"Really? Because the last time you promised me something, I didn't end so happy," Cas said, meeting his brother's guilty look. "And don't talk like 'dealing' with Alastair would be easy and non-life threatening, exorcising isn't-"

"You're not gonna exorcise Alastair. You're going to kill him," Gabriel said. He pulled out an unordinary looking knife from his inner jacket pocket and handed it to Castiel.

"With this."

Cas pored his eyes on the weapon and took it in his own hand. "What is this, some knife dipped in demonic killing acid?"

"Sort of, more or less. It'll work." Gabriel got up and walked toward the door.

"So what, you just hand me this, expecting me to understand completely and get going?"

"I don't suppose you want me here, answering your questions or not. I've got things to do, have fun with the Winchester," Gabriel replied.

Cas waited and swallowed whatever he wanted to say, knowing he wouldn't get anything understood or answered anyway. Gabriel waved and smiled thinly at Cas, before reaching out for the door knob. He turned to face his brother one last time.

"Whatever you do… don't die."

Cas nodded and peered up at him as he replied, "You too."

And with that, Gabriel left.

Cas slid his fingers across the blade in his hands, wondering how Gabriel could have gotten hold of something so unordinary. He shook his assumptions in his head away and reached for the phone in his pocket to inform Dean about the situation, but it looked like Dean had something to say himself.

_**1 New Message – Dean**_

'_I forgot to say. Next time, a movie with a little less creep?'_

Cas blushed and smiled at his phone as he thought of what to reply to him, after all Gabriel had said.

'_Next time, huh?'_


	4. The Scientist

_I was just guessing at numbers and figures,_  
><em>Pulling the puzzles apart.<em>  
><em>Questions of science, science and progress,<em>  
><em>Do not speak as loud as my heart.<em>

_And tell me you love me, come back and haunt me_  
><em>Oh when I rush to the start<em>  
><em>Running in circles, chasing up tails<em>  
><em>Coming back as we are<em>

Dean came back with two beers before he observed as the other man cast his eyes upon the sky full of stars. He sat next to him on the padded grass and followed Cas' eyes, which still managed to gleam at a time as dark as this.

"So, what are we doing here?" Dean asked, placing a can of beer between them as he held one of his own in his other hand.

"High chance of dying tomorrow, so. Might as well enjoy the stars one last time," Cas said. He looked down at the beer between them and took a sip.

Dean huffed. "Don't be so negative. I'm not letting you die tomorrow," he said.

He moved his eyes to Cas without turning his head, and watched a small smile appear on his face. It was silent for a while. They continued watching the sky and taking a sip every now and then, until Cas breathed out a laugh.

"What?" Dean asked, quirking his eyebrows in confusion.

Cas shook his head. "Nothing, — just remembering a few things. When I was a kid, for a while, I uh…" he trailed off. He looked down and bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing.

"I wanted to be an astronaut," he finished, smiling and blushing in embarrassment.

Dean laughed as he found himself grinning from cheek to cheek. "Really?"

Cas nodded. "Yeah. Always wanted to see what's out there. Go to the moon."

"The moon?"

"And Mars. Gabriel- used to uh, tell me aliens were real and that they were going to roam the Earth looking for me because they were my real parents. And that made me question my dad on whether I was adopted," Cas rambled on, finishing it with a laugh.

Dean threw his head back, laughing as he nearly spit out his beer.

"That's not all, actually. When my dad said I wasn't adopted, I refused to believe him. I told him to prove it to me that aliens weren't my real parents."

"Did he try to?"

"That's the best part. He told me to write a letter addressed to 'Castiel's alien parents', and if nobody replied, then it meant that they weren't real. For about a week, Gabriel had me believing my real parents were aliens who actually wrote back. I tried to convince Anna, too, but she was way too smart to believe Gabriel's stories," Cas finished off with a smile.

Dean laughed lightly as he listened in. It almost hurt to hear Cas talk about his siblings, to know there was a period of time when Cas and his family were actually happy together.

"So, for how long were you into all that space stuff?" Dean asked.

Cas beamed and scratched the back of his neck, innocently looking at Dean. He paused for several moments before finally giving in.

"Masters Degree in Astronomy."

Dean raised his eyebrows at the words he didn't hear so often and looked at Cas in awe. "You're joking."

Cas shrugged. "Go on, tell me how completely pointless it is to go for a course like that."

Dean shook his head. "No, no. Hell, I mean- astronomy, Cas. _Astronomy!_ It's pretty damn awesome, if you ask me."

"Really?" Cas' mouth formed into a small, grateful smile. Dean couldn't help but stare for a while at how happy he looked like that.

"Yeah, really. You could- you could be somebody, you know? You still carry all that info in your head?" Dean said, his expression still half-filled with awe.

Cas nodded shyly. "Pretty much, yeah. Big universe this is," he said, catching Dean's gaze for a few moments.

He blushed and broke the eye contact by looking down at his beer as he continued, "And uh, what about you?" he asked.

"Me? C'mon, I ain't got no Masters like you. Didn't even finish high school," Dean said as he shrugged.

"But you're still one hell of a smart man, Dean. A person's intelligence isn't defined by their grades or how far they go to pursue an education. I've seen you, you know your stuff. There has to be _something _you like doing when you're not hunting," Cas said.

Dean thought about the one thing on his mind that stuck there for a while. "Fine. When we were kids, Sammy broke his favourite toy, some dog robot thing that was a Christmas present from Bobby. I think he dropped it from the top floor and the whole thing just broke, springs everywhere."

He noticed Cas listening in, focusing his eyes onto his while he talked.

"And of course, Sam, who was four years old at the time, he wouldn't stop crying. He was hell of a lot worried about Bobby being mad at him, as much as I tried to convince him Bobby wasn't like Dad. Literally, all he did for an hour was cry on the floor next to that broken robot dog," he said with a laugh at the last sentence.

Cas smiled as Dean continued on. "So me, being the great, yet annoyed, big brother; I put that thing back together. Found a bunch of tools, found a bunch of books, did what I saw in movies, and I actually managed to fix it. In fact, I made that annoying, barking thing more tolerable to live with. Didn't cry every time it needed something."

"You're still talking about the robot dog, right?" Cas asked teasingly.

"Nope, all Sam," Dean joked and laughed along with Cas. "But yeah, from then on, I liked to fix, make things. I made my own metal detector when I was twelve. Built a skateboard for Sam for his tenth birthday. And hey, I fix my own car. Stuff like that."

He turned his head to Cas, who had been staring at him the whole time.

"That's- amazing, Dean," Cas said.

Dean huffed a laugh. "Yeah, well. To be honest, I've never really shared that with anyone."

"And no one's ever told me astronomy was 'awesome'," Cas muttered with a grin.

The both of them stared longer at each other, eyes momentarily flickering between the other person's lips and eyes. Dean knew, that if he didn't turn away now, that'd be it. It'd give him away that easily. His palms were pressed down onto the padded grass as one of them sat inches away from Cas' own hand.

The thumping heartbeat in his chest made every single breath heavy as he tried to control it. Cas searched his eyes in slight confusion, and then his face turned back to a soulful look.

He was sure Cas had a clue of what he was thinking at the moment, as Cas had responded by slightly leaning his body in.

It seemed so _right_, Dean thought. He wanted it, badly. So badly it actually hurt, because within a second or two he'd begin to realize what he was doing, and start thinking about the consequences that would come if it happened.

The consequences of getting too close.

And so the thoughts took over his actions;

Dean sucked in a breath and froze.

Cas was still a safe distance away, but the amount of hurt and confusion was so visibly written all over his face, Dean felt his heart sink.

Dean dropped his head down and sighed almost silently, shaking his head in disappointment at himself as he couldn't bare to meet Cas' face when he stuttered out,

"C- Cas, I—"

"It's fine."

"No, Cas, it's-"

"I said it's fine," Cas hissed. He ignored Dean's attempts to explain himself as he started to stand up from the ground. "I understand. Perfectly."

And with that, Cas stormed off.

Dean wrapped his hands around his head, thinking about what just happened, and what could have. He stayed glued to where he was sitting on the grass. There was no point in chasing after Cas, because he himself hadn't known what really happened or had anything right to say. He threw a hard punch at the grass beneath him and cursed at the pain. He inhaled deeply as he rubbed the bruises on his knuckles, and chugged down the rest of the can of beer.

"Well look at that, Dean, this might be the longest you've gone without ruining it," he said to himself.

He buried his head in his hands, massaging the centre between his eyes as he sighed angrily.

"So fucking close."

So close to not screwing up.

* * *

><p>"Cas? You up?" Dean's whisper filled the room.<p>

Cas continued to breathe like any normal sleeping person would. He popped open one eye, his back still faced towards Dean. He heard Dean sigh and fall back to the bed, tossing and turning around the bed to feel comfortable.

"Awake or not— Cas, I… I can't even make out half of the things going through my mind right now. All I can say is, I'm sorry I freaked. I wasn't supposed to, really."

Cas frowned into the pillow and shifted his body a bit, not making any sound besides the short breaths that went in and out of his chest.

"Cas?" Dean whispered again, a slight hint of hope in his tone.

Castiel bit his lip and rolled his eyes, catching Dean by surprise as he turned around in his bed, sitting up a little.

He stressed eyes at Dean. "We can forget it ever happened. It's late, and we've got a demon to kill tomorrow, so get some sleep."

He turned in bed again before he could catch Dean's reaction and held his pillow tighter.

They didn't start the next day with talking and getting breakfast like they normally did.

* * *

><p>"So, this is it? Seems pretty- well, too typical for a demon," Dean said, looking out the window of the Impala.<p>

Cas looked out as well. "This is the address."

Dean nodded slowly and watched as Cas checked his weapons. He took a deep breath and got out of the car, Cas following his lead.

Dean squinted into the binoculars, scanning the area for a few moments.

"If there are any demons or people in there, they're definitely in hiding. Do they know we're here?" Dean wondered aloud.

Cas shook his head. "I don't know. But we have to move, quick."

Dean led the way to the back door of the grey house. They nodded at each other before going separate paths, eyes making contact one last time.

The house was empty, so far. There weren't any signs indicating anyone's presence, as it was barely a home to begin with. Dean quietly walked his way through a corridor, turning his head at every room with four walls he passed.

'_Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars,_

_Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars'_

Dean shot his head at the direction of where the music came from. He hardened his face, readying his weapons as he took several steps along the corridor. Frank Sinatra continued to play on what seemed like a record player from just a few rooms away from Dean.

'_In other words, hold my hand,_

_In other words, baby, kiss me.'_

Dean furrowed his brows at the song choice and continued to walk, finally getting to a place where the music wasn't so muffled anymore.

Cas stood in front of Dean, his back faced towards the other man. He lifted the arm of the turntable in front of him and sighed as the music stopped. The record continued to slowly turn.

Dean wore a look of confusion on his face as Cas mimicked its movements, smiling sadistically as his eyes met Dean's.

He laughed. "He'd like that, wouldn't he? Hi, Dean."

"Uh, you okay?"

"Pretty good. Well Castiel, I can't figure out who'd enjoy this more. Me, you, or Dean?"

Dean shook his head in confusion and darted his eyes towards Cas' neck, noticing the absence of a certain silver pendant that usually wrapped around it.

"Son of a bitch," Dean whispered. He grabbed hold of his knife, aiming it at Cas' direction.

And that's when Castiel's blue eyes turned full on black.

"That's a little rude, Dean. What are you gonna do with that?" the demon sneered.

Dean clenched his jaw, his hand gripping tight on the knife. "Get out of him, or I swear I'll-"

"What? Kill me?" the demon shrugged, making Cas look barely recognizable with his facial expressions. "Please, you wouldn't dare lay a finger. Not on this body, anyways."

Dean inhaled deeply and started to pace, hiding the hand that quietly reached into his jacket.

"Yeah? Well, unfortunately for you, there are things that can't hurt him, that can hurt you like a bitch," he hissed. He threw the holy water at the demon, followed by a shot of a salt round.

Dean ran, hearing the demon scream in Cas' voice at the agony.

* * *

><p>Dean grunted in pain as soon as his back hit the wall. He coughed and crawled a few feet away as he slowly got up from the ground, only for his neck to meet with Cas' hand.<p>

"This. This is fun, isn't it Dean? Cas is having just as much fun as I am," the demon fumed, smiling maniacally.

Dean gasped as he choked for air, attempting to free himself from Cas' hand. He managed to suck in a breath, before muttering out,

"Sorry, Cas."

Dean kneed the other man in the gut and slid the demon knife against Cas' skin, pushing him at least a metre away at the same time.

The demon bellowed, looking up at Dean with furious eyes. "What the hell is that?"

Dean smirked, wiping off the little cut he got himself on the side of his face.

"Congrats. Seems like your species can actually die too, now."

The demon glared at Dean, his eyes turning completely dark. He attempted to jump at Dean to have a go at him again, but was stopped halfway, sending him back to his original position.

He looked around in confusion and then down at his feet. Panic was written all over Cas' face as the demon's eyes scanned upon the devil's trap he was centred in.

Dean laughed bitterly. "Didn't think you'd fall for that one so easily."

Cas' face hardened. "I can see whatever's in his mind. He's angry."

"_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,_

_omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii-"_

"How long do you think I've been in him, hm? Did you really think all those _moments_ you've had with him were real? Do you think he, or _I_ was hurt by what happened last night?" the demon thundered, continuing to twitch as Dean went on.

"_Omnis legio, et secta diabolica,  
>Ergo draco maledicte et sectio-"<em>

The demon scoffed. "Poor you. You actually think he feels the same way. All it takes is acting, Dean, really-"

"_Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica  
>Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus," <em>Dean smiled, watching the demon slowly cough out its own smoke. Dean could barely catch what the demon was up to before he yelled out the last two words.

"_Audi nos!"_

There was a bloodcurdling scream.

Black smoke bolted out of Cas' mouth, and eventually sunk to the floor, dissolving into the fiery pits of hell. Dean's chest rose and fell as he panted for air, watching the scene before him to register what had just happened.

Dean paced over quickly as Cas fell unconscious to the ground.

"Hey, hey. Cas?" Dean called out.

Cas' head lay still on Dean's knee as Dean turned him around.

Dean lightly shook him and patted his face, muttering, "Hey c'mon, damn it. Cas!"

Relief washed over Dean when Cas popped his eyes open, sucking in a breath. He sat up and winced at the pain on his right arm, holding it tightly as he leaned into Dean.

Dean flickered his eyes to the other man's arm, which bled through his jacket, leaving a growing stain on it.

"Crap. Son of a bitch," he murmured. He got out a cloth from his jeans pocket and wrapped it tightly around Cas' bleeding arm.

"You didn't do that," Cas said, breaths still heavy as he put pressure onto his wound.

"Well it's probably freakin' deep, Cas, we gotta go." Dean helped Cas up and held him as they walked out.

"Dean."

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna pass out."

* * *

><p>Castiel fluttered his eyes open and wiped his face, looking at his close surroundings. He was covered in white sheets in a hospital bed, his arm properly wrapped and positioned.<p>

"Evenin', sunshine."

His head whipped up towards the door, where Dean stood leaning against the doorframe.

Dean smiled and walked toward him. "Why do I feel like we've been here before?" he jokingly asked.

Thoughts surrounded Cas' mind when he saw Dean, having all sorts of emotions written over his face.

"I almost killed you," he mumbled out, glowering up at Dean.

Dean's face changed. "It wasn't you,-"

"I can't believe I would let something so _stupid_ happen,-"

"It's not your fault."

"I should've _known,_ damn it, I should've-"

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed.

Cas paused, shaking his head as he slumped back against the bed.

Dean sighed. "Look- you're definitely not in any condition to go on. Let's just, take a break, okay? From the whole Alastair thing, and everything else, really. "

Cas swallowed hesitantly. "Are you saying... we should go our separate ways?"

"I didn't- it's not like I want to. But it's the best, for now. As soon as you get yourself together and you're ready, you give me a call," Dean said.

Cas nodded as he thought about it. "Fine. I guess I need some space."

"Good. That's, good. So…" he trailed off and pointed at the door, looking at Cas sadly. "My queue to go."

Cas looked at Dean hesitantly and stayed quiet. Dean nodded and turned on his heel, before Cas hurried the urge to grab his hand.

"That demon lied. I wasn't possessed for that long but… I remember everything. What the demon said about me, it wasn't true. It was all me when…," Cas trailed off softly.

Dean looked down on him, his shoulders dropping in slight relief as he smiled gratefully enough to see. Cas' heart nearly jumped out of his chest when Dean leaned down.

Dean's lips met the top of his forehead, his hand softly stroking against the side of Cas' face. Cas held in his sigh and looked at his hands as Dean pulled away, already taking a step backwards.

"I'll see ya."

* * *

><p>It'd been weeks since Dean last saw Castiel at the hospital.<p>

Dean continued to hunt alone for the first week after, and later he joined in with Sam, who finally had his leg recovered.

Cas hadn't called, or texted, at all.

And it made Dean act a little different.

Dean constantly hurried to the phone when it rang, only to be slightly disappointed by the words on the screen. He hunted differently, from the last time he hunted with Sam.

Sam could so easily tell.

Dean never mentioned anything about it, but Sam knew.

And Dean knew that Sam knew.

The way Dean's eyes fell when he picked up the phone, the sudden mood change whenever even normal everyday things like a cheeseburger or the moon were brought up on a case, it was all a little too obvious.

But that day it was different.

**Bzz, bzz.**

_**1 Voicemail - Unknown**_

Dean widened his eyes at the screen and played the voicemail straight away, ignoring Sam's short glances at him.

"_Dean. Hey, I just- uh, wanted to let you know I'm absolutely fine. My arm, it's fine too."_

"_I'm sorry it took this long, but I- I'll explain it later …I—"_

Dean furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he stared at the phone. "What? Damn it Cas, you what?"

He shook his head in frustration and turned to Sam, eyes then lit up.

"You still know how to trace a number?" Dean asked, crossing his arms.

Sam nodded. "I- guess, but Dean-"

"Good. Find out where it is," Dean firmly said, throwing the phone in Sam's direction.

Sam caught it and slightly jumped, shocked by the sudden motive. He rolled his eyes at his brother and went to the other room to return with his laptop.

Dean paced back and forth as Sam worked for a few minutes.

"Would you quit doing that? It's distracting," Sam scoffed.

Dean paused in his tracks and rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to Sam.

"Hey- I think I got something."

Dean turned his head to the laptop screen and hovered forward. "What? You know where he is?"

"Yeah, Indianapolis. Pen, paper," Sam ordered.

Dean passed them to him willingly and waited as Sam wrote an address down. "This is where he last called, that's all I can find-"

"Thanks," Dean said as he snatched the small paper from Sam's hands.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna go look for him. I'll be back tomorrow morning," Dean said, picking up his jacket.

"Is he in trouble? Because if he is, you could use some help-"

"I don't know, but he could be. And I'm going. Alone," Dean responded in a firm tone. He shot a look at Sam, who shook his head at Dean's words. "What now?" Dean asked, gesturing his hands at his brother.

"I'm just- worried."

"About what?"

"You! You've been acting weird. Did- something actually happen between you two?" Sam asked, the concern in his voice showing.

"Oh, besides the uh, demonic possession?" Dean started, pacing backwards towards the door. "No, nothing happened."

Nothing at all.

* * *

><p>"I don't get it. Why don't you just kill me and go suck up to your leader?"<p>

The demon's eyes went black. "Now, where's the fun in that? Besides, boss says he'd rather explain it himself anyway."

Cas scoffed, "So what, he _doesn't_ want me dead?"

The demon smiled. "Oh honey, he wants you more than that," she said as she circled around him.

"Then why am I here? Why am I being tied up against my own will, if you're not going to kill me?" Cas asked.

"So many questions. A girl doesn't like questions, Castiel. Of course, you wouldn't know that," the demon added, tapping her hand over her mouth in a narcissistic manner.

Cas rolled his eyes. He continued to secretly unknot the wire around his wrists. He was good with knots, and this time, he freed himself.

He kept the wire wrapped around his wrists still, to make it look like he was still trapped. "There has to be some reason. Are you waiting for someone?"

The demon stayed quiet as she turned her back to him.

"Unless… you don't know either," Cas resulted. "You're one of his most loyal employees. You'd do whatever he tells you to do, without a question. But you do know a few things, maybe even what Alastair is really up to-"

The demon turned back and slapped Cas across the face. "_Don't_ say his name, human."

Cas slightly winced at the burning sensation on his face and inhaled deeply before he threw the wire at the floor beneath him.

He threw a punch at the demon's neck, taking her by surprise. The demon gasped and opened her mouth, black smoke pouring out of it as she screamed.

"_Et Secta Diabolica, Omnis Congregatio, Omnis Legio, Omnis Incursio Infernalis Adversarii, Omnis Spiritus, Exorcizamus!"_

The black smoke returned to its host as she sucked in a breath. Cas grabbed hold of his gun across the room and took a shot.

The demon laughed. "Reverse exorcism. Cute, didn't think that would work. But what's a bullet gonna do besides harm the meatsuit?"

"That's no ordinary bullet," Cas said, a smile curling up at the corner of his mouth.

The demon furrowed her eyebrows and froze as she attempted to take two steps. "What is this?" she fumed.

"Devil's trap carved into a bullet. I personally didn't think _that_ would work. Now if you excuse me, I have to make a call," Cas remarked, pulling out his phone as he exited the motel room.

"_Cas?"_

"Dean," Cas whispered, smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks. "It's good, good to hear your voice. Uh- you have to get here. I'm in Indianapolis," he added.

"_Yeah, I know."_

"What? How-"

"_Never mind. Where are you, exactly? What's going on?"_

Cas sighed. "Look for Harvey's Inn. I've got Alastair's servant in my room, she's trapped. I could use some help- maybe getting info out of her."

"_What? Cas, this afternoon, I got a voicemail from you saying you were, quote mark, absolutely fine. Fine my ass-"_

"I'll explain everything later, I'm sorry. Please just, make it here."

There was a silence on the other end. _"Yeah, okay."_

"Dean, I - it's nice to hear from you," Cas said.

**Beep**.

* * *

><p>Dean walked over to Room 27 and breathed in. He gave a hard knock on the door, and heard footsteps shuffle from the inside.<p>

The door swung open to Cas, who thank God, looked okay enough. Dean stopped for a moment and stared, words unable to get out of his mouth.

"Dean," Cas muttered.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Are you- good, okay?"

"Boo-hoo, I've seen better reunions than that," a snarky female voice called from inside the room.

Dean tilted his head as he entered the room. "Ah, so this is Alastair's pet, eh?"

The demon smiled in a sarcastic manner. "Ah, so this is the one who made Castiel's heart go all achy breaky, eh?"

"You shut your stupid mouth," Dean sneered.

"Is my mouth really the stupid one?" The demon snapped back.

"Know what, screw you-"

"ENOUGH! Honestly, it's like I'm in a room with a couple of middle schoolers," Cas barked, the annoyance in his voice clear as he rubbed the side of his head.

Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back against one of the desks, crossing his arms as he glared daggers at the demon's direction.

The demon's eyes went black as she continued to smile at him.

"You can't just let it get to you so easily," Cas whispered at Dean.

Cas turned back to the demon in the chair before he could catch Dean's disapproving reaction.

"I'll ask you one more time, nicely. Then I might have to pass you to _him_, and really, he's not as friendly as he looks," Cas said.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Dean hissed.

"_When_ it comes to demons," Cas announced, eyeing Dean from the side. "Where is Alastair?" he asked the demon, who smiled up in response.

"Up. Yours."

Cas sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you. Dean?" he turned and nodded in Dean's direction before slipping out the demon knife in his pocket.

Dean took the knife in his own hands.

* * *

><p>"See, you've already pissed me off, so. This ought to be a fun ride."<p>

The torture went on for thirty minutes.

Dean used mostly holy water and salt on the demon rather than the knife, after seeing how great an effect the knife had actually made on the demon's host as well.

"What does Alastair want with him?" Dean demanded.

The demon panted, breaths still heavy from the burning of holy water against her skin. She stayed silent and stared hard at Dean, who threw another salt round at her.

"It's not just him!" the demon yelped at the pain.

Dean and Cas exchanged glances at the sudden information spit out. Cas had been standing against a drawer whilst he watched the events take place. Within ten minutes he sort of spaced out at the repeated questions and actions Dean had made on the demon, and thought more about what they were going to do after this.

He had basically ignored Dean for weeks, and he knew Dean wasn't the least bit happy about that. He had some explaining to do, and problem was; he wasn't sure if he was having trouble on where to begin, or if he had a proper explanation at all.

Guilt, anxiety and uneasiness was most of what Cas had felt for the past few weeks. He remembered everything. Not being able to help, or do anything to stop the demon from hurting Dean with his own hands and attempting to manipulate his mind.

He even had his number changed. He moved from place to place, places which included the Roadhouse, his little apartment in Missouri, and Fargo.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

Cas snapped out of his thoughts and stood beside Dean, as they both glowered down at the demon in the chair.

"It's not just him Boss is after. You think you two really met again and again by coincidence, or _destiny_?" the demon retorted.

Dean and Cas took a moment to recall the many times they had 'met' in a year before they actually worked together. They looked at each other momentarily and then back at the demon.

"Keep talking," said Cas.

"I'll keep talking- only under one condition."

"What?"

The demon paused and exhaled. "You take that knife and stab me right through the chest after I tell you."

"You want us to kill you?" Dean asked with a raise of the eyebrows.

"There ain't no point; I give you answers, I get tortured. I don't give you answers, I get tortured. Believe me, you'd be doing me a favour for not sending me back there."

Dean looked at Cas for a confirmation, and got a light nod in response.

"Fine, we'll kill you. But you better start talkin' real quick, sweetheart," Dean said.

The demon peered down at the floor and then up at them again. "This isn't the first time Alastair's up to something. He says he does things for fun, revenge, sometimes both. But he did some planning with you two, and some other people in this country, who frankly don't matter in this case, because their daddies didn't become hunters after Mommy got baked in the oven-"

Dean flinched and stepped forward at the mention of his mum, pulling out the demon knife in his hands. He threatened the demon's neck by letting the knife stay inches away from it.

"What, you want me to talk while I choke on my own blood? There's plenty left of the story," the demon murmured.

"Dean," Cas whispered as he gently held Dean's arm back.

Dean impatiently gave out a sigh as he stood back, placing the knife back to his side.

Cas gave him a reassuring look and turned back to the demon. "My father didn't become a hunter. Why am I in the picture?"

"Your father, no. But Boss and your Mommy have a little history, that's what I know," the demon said.

Cas' face dropped. "What _history_?"

"I don't know, but she sure as hell pissed him off in some way."

"_What_ history?" he commanded for an answer, but the demon stayed quiet as she smiled. Cas threw holy water at her, in which she screamed in response.

"They worked together. Did a little _do_ on the way, but she picked the normal life over him. She cut him out, and met your dad. That's when Alastair was hunted by many of our kind… for working with a hunter," the demon let out, the agony clear in her voice.

Cas' heart fell. He sensed Dean looking at him, the shock clearly written on his face as well. He shook his head and rubbed his face, turning away from everyone in the room.

"A hunter? _My mother_, a hunter?"

"Is it that much of a plot twist?" the demon chimed.

"And you're saying she had a thing with Alastair, a _demon_?" Cas continued to ask.

"That's what started this whole thing," the demon said.

Cas wasn't able to ask questions anymore. It didn't feel right, getting such well-kept information from a demon.

Dean glanced at him and read his face, knowing Cas wasn't able to go on. "Where is Alastair?" Dean asked.

"You'll kill me after this, right?"

"Where is he?"

The demon exhaled. "Lawrence, Kansas. At the moment, you'll find him in a rather girly meatsuit, working as a bartender at The Barrel House. That's all I know, now _kill_ me."

The demon shut her eyes and gasped as Dean stabbed her through the chest.

He looked over at Cas, who had walked over to the bed, burying his head in his hands. Dean waited before he spoke.

"You okay?"

Cas lifted his head up from his hands. "Yeah, just found out- my whole life has been a lie."

"You know uh- she could be just screwin' with ya. Demons do that," Dean attempted.

Cas forced a small smile as he stayed silent.

Dean sighed and shrugged. "We'll get through this, 'right? We're gonna gank that demon son of a bitch, and none of us be dyin'. You gonna stay in this crappy hole or get back home to Missouri?"

Cas looked down and swallowed hesitantly.

"Somebody stole my car."

* * *

><p>The drive was silent for the first four hours. Dean decided it'd be better to stay quiet for a while before he started asking the dozen questions he had in mind.<p>

"You want to tell me where you've been, or what you've been up to these past four weeks?" Dean questioned.

"I haven't- been doing much."

Dean kept his eyes on the road. "Oh, haven't been doing much. I see. So, you just decided to cut me out? Not answer _any_ of my calls, or texts?"

"Dean-"

"I thought you were _dead_, Cas. Dead. It took a week and a half for me to decide that it was okay, to finally call you. You needed your space, fine, I gave it. But would it have hurt so much to pick up the phone to let me know you were _alive_?"

"I almost killed you. I put you in danger, and- you could've died just like that by my hands and- I _couldn't_—" Cas stuttered out, swallowing the end of that sentence.

Dean watched him momentarily look at his hands, staying silent. He gave out a sigh.

"It wasn't you. It's not your fault something like that happened. But for Pete's sake _never_ go MIA like that again, you hear me? How'd you think I've felt these past few weeks?"

"Yeah, 'cause you're one to consider someone's feelings," Cas whispered, more to himself than to Dean.

Dean flickered his eyes to Cas, pondering on his soft said words that meant worse.

"What'd you say?"

Cas shook his head. "Nothing, I- DEAN, ROAD!"

Dean's heart nearly leaped out of his chest as the car neared the very edge of a sharp corner. He quickly grabbed on to the steering wheel and turned at the last second, receiving several loud honks from a car passing by.

The Impala was thankfully back on track, and the both of them hadn't been hurt anywhere, besides the quick rush of panic that ran through them for a second.

Dean breathed heavily and slapped the side of the steering wheel as he mumbled out a few curses.

"Keep your eyes on the road, can't you?" Cas hissed, rubbing the top of his forehead while he slumped back against his seat.

"I'm sorry, the road isn't exactly all I have on my mind right now, when it should be!"

Cas shook his head and sighed. "Pull over. It's not safe to be arguing in a moving vehicle like this."

"Are you serious?"

"Don't make me say it again."

Dean rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. He slowed the car down and pulled over to the side of the road, when Cas had immediately opened the door before getting out.

Dean gave out an aggravated sigh as he did the same, to meet Cas standing against the passenger door.

"Okay, _what_? You wanna- talk about us? Now?" Dean asked in a sarcastic tone.

"Yeah, let's do that. Let's talk about us," Cas replied calmly, looking straight at Dean as he folded his arms across his waist.

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise and walked over the car to Cas. "What? Really?"

"_Yes_, really. 'Cause I want to know."

"Know what?"

"What you _want_, Dean," Cas said, the bravery starting to pour out of him as Dean watched his face change. He stepped a couple of steps forward as he continued, softening his voice.

"There are times when I am so- _sure _and positive about how you feel. You look at me like- like you want something _more_. And then you talk to me like that something more is… already there," Cas added, making eye contact with Dean at the last sentence. Dean inhaled and exhaled deeply as he let Cas continue.

"But there are also times when you- bring back the 'professionals' talk, and check out women, and—leave me hanging, _several_ times now," Cas stopped to clear his throat, looking at the floor. "I've had it up to here."

"So honestly, just tell me once; _what do you want_?"

Dean took a few seconds to treasure this moment.

He tugged Cas by the collar, shutting his eyes as he finally crashed the other man's lips against his. He let his hand travel up to the side of Cas' face as he felt Cas' body tense up, before Cas himself slightly leaned into the kiss, holding onto Dean as he did so.

Dean caught his breath as he pulled away, slowly opening his eyes to meet the other's amused and blushing face. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his cool.

"There. Got your answer?"

Cas stood there, staring at the other man in awe and smirked.

"You stupid bastard." He took Dean by surprise as he shoved him against the car, pulling their faces together once more. The kiss was deeper, and longer, this time, with both of them acting at the same time.

One of Cas' hands had found its way in Dean's hair, while the other had curled around his waist, pulling them closer together. Dean leaned into him and wrapped his arms around his neck, closing the gap between them even more.

They let their foreheads rest against each other once they pulled away, and Dean kept his eyes locked on Cas' lips.

"Y- You're the stupid- bastard," he stammered out, laughing a bit after.

Cas smiled in response, and they kissed again, shorter yet sweeter than the rest. Their eyes met, gazing into each other like it was the first time again. Cas leaned his head over at Dean's shoulder, burying it into his neck while his hands met Dean's middle back.

Dean chuckled and stretched his arms over Cas' neck, holding him back tightly. "We're hugging. You know, we've never really done this before."

"I know- I've never hugged anyone in a long time. It's weird, but- it feels right. With you."

"Man, could you get any cheesier?"

Cas smiled into Dean's shoulder and sighed. "I'm sorry I cut you out."

Dean kept his arms around Cas tight, but turned his head the slightest to have his lips meet with Cas' cheek. "It's fine. Don't be."

They pulled away from each other when the sound of thunder filled their ears. It started to drizzle on them, tiny droplets of rain patting on their skin.

Dean laughed as he faced the sky. "Now that's just- cliché and cheesy at the same time," he said.

He stared down at their hands and intertwined their fingers together, earning a small smile from Cas.

Cas shrugged and pulled on Dean's hand. "I don't control the weather. C'mon, let's get back to the car."

* * *

><p>"So uh… do I, see you tomorrow?" Dean asked, looking out the window at the apartment that stood a few metres away from the car.<p>

Cas nodded and stood still. "Yes. Yeah, I guess," he said.

"Okay- then. I'll see you," Dean responded, a slight hint of disappointment shown in his voice. He gave a smile and nodded while biting his lip hesitantly.

"I better- go then," Cas said, keeping his eyes on Dean.

He loosened his grip on the door handle as he leaned in, aiming for Dean's cheek. Dean quickly held Cas by the face, pulling their lips together in a lock once more.

Cas stayed in shock for a second, before eventually leaning and smiling into the kiss, gently holding onto the side of Dean's face as their mouths moved together.

They pulled away like the first time they kissed, amusement and redness sprawled across their faces. Cas exhaled and nodded quickly as he stared at Dean's lips, licking his own in the process.

"You should- you should definitely come inside."

Dean nodded back the same way. "Yeah that's- that sounds good too."

They got out of the car and made their way to the apartment, arms brushing against one another as they walked. Dean smiled and playfully shoved Cas by the arm with his own, getting a breathy laugh and a shove back in return.

They did that a few more times on the way, before Cas gave in and attacked Dean's face with several ticklish kisses instead, making Dean squirm as he softly pushed Cas' head away. Cas waved an awkward hello at an old neighbour who caught them, and Dean did his best to hold in his laughter once he saw the expression on Cas' face.

Cas pulled Dean by the hand once they got into the room and turned to him, a sign on his face that read, 'What do we do next?'

Dean smirked and flickered his eyes to the bedroom. "You lead the way, professor."

"That's creepy. But okay," Cas said with a smile. He purposely tugged on Dean's sleeve with a little force and walked, leading them to the bedroom.

Dean feasted his eyes up and down Cas' body in front of him, stumbling forwards a bit when Cas tugged his sleeve even harder. He kicked the door behind him shut, holding out both of his hands once Cas turned to face him.

Cas smiled and took them in his own, intertwining their fingers together and brushing his thumb across Dean's knuckles. They rested their foreheads against each other and kissed softly. Cas tilted his head and leaned his body in as Dean planted soft kisses on his face, trailing them from the corner of Cas' mouth, to his jawline, and then to the bottom of his neck.

Dean smiled to himself as he could feel Cas holding back a soft moan. He started to pace backwards to the bed while he still sucked on Cas' neck and moved his hands to Cas' arms, down to his waist, and then down to his thighs.

Cas gasped just before Dean crashed his lips onto his again. He led and pushed Dean to the end of the bed, causing them to pull away, and for Dean to almost fall back completely. Dean's arms spread out behind him, palms pressed into the bed while Cas leaned over him.

Cas' own hands found its way to the top of Dean's on the bed while they kissed again. Dean pulled away and whispered, "You really sure you wanna do this?"

Cas nodded. "Yeah," he replied. He then furrowed his eyebrows. "Why, do you not want to? 'Cause I don't want to if you don't want to. Unless you're just freaking out on me again, Dean, I swear-"

"No, no! Shh, shut up," Dean scolded in a hushed voice. "I want to. You've just had a long day, and you probably have a lot on your mind, you know, after- everything."

Cas smirked. "Trust me, there's only one thing on my mind right now."

And with that, Dean grinned as he shuffled along the bed. He wrapped his hand around Cas' head as Cas climbed on top of him, pulling him down into another long and passionate kiss.

Dean gasped, holding onto Cas' back as Cas buried his own head into his neck, leaving kisses of his own. He turned his head as he noticed a patch of black inked into Cas' skin from the corner of his eyes.

He lifted the back of Cas' shirt and grinned at what he saw that was marked between his shoulder blades. "You inked up?"

Cas pulled away from Dean's neck and raised his head, ogling his eyes over the other man. "Of course, I had to. Do you… not like it?"

"No. Not one bit," Dean said teasingly, biting down on his lower lip while he shook his head. "Not at all, because I think it just made you ten times hotter."

Clothes were taken off within a minute, and Cas had the beige sheets pulled right above them.

* * *

><p>The next morning it was Dean who woke up first. He stayed in bed with Cas, who was still asleep, and brushed the hairs out of his face lightly. He shuffled in closer when he felt Cas wake up beneath him, resting his arm rest around Cas' side.<p>

Cas reached for Dean's arm and brushed his thumb against it as he turned, lifting his head up to look at Dean. He smiled tiredly.

"Morning," he murmured.

"Hi, mornin' sunshine. I gotta say, last night- it was like you were a sweet piece of pie and a dangerous piece of hell in between," Dean said with a laugh.

"Hey, I'm the one with the marks of territory all over," Cas said, showing a purple bruise on the side of his neck.

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise at the bruise and smirked. He leaned into the touch of Cas' hand cupping and stroking his face, smiling genuinely.

Cas sat further up and kissed Dean's forehead shortly. "Coffee?" he offered, covering his naked body with the sheet as he reached for the boxers on the floor.

He picked it up and observed it. "This is yours. Where's mine?"

"Here," Dean said as he bent over to pick up the underwear on the floor beside him.

They threw the underwear in their hands at each other, catching them both simultaneously. Dean grinned.

"Look at that. We're disgustingly adorable already," he said.

Cas let a wide smile spread across his face, shaking his head as he put on his boxers, followed by a t-shirt. Dean pouted his lips as Cas left the bed, earning a questioning look from Castiel.

"What?"

"You don't want to maybe, postpone the coffee and come lie here with me instead?" Dean asked with a hopeful smile.

Cas thought for a moment, moving his eyes to the upper right corner of his head in a light-hearted manner, then flickered them back at Dean.

"No. Coffee sounds good. Maybe if you, get your lazy ass up and about you'd be able to join me," he said.

Dean smirked and shook his head, looking at his hands as he whispered,

"Can't believe I love you."

"What?"

"What?" Dean said as he looked up with an unknowing face, pausing for a moment.

"You said something," Cas squinted, his mouth slowly forming into a smile.

"No I didn't."

Cas nodded at him knowingly as he paced closer to Dean. "Yes, yes you did. You said you love me."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at him and fought a smile, staying quiet.

"You love me," Cas repeated, the smile on his face getting wider at each second.

"Shut up," Dean responded, his tone kept soft as he looked away.

The next thing Dean knew Cas was by his side, pulling their lips together again. Cas nuzzled into Dean's neck, holding him across the waist.

"I love you."

"Aw, stop it Cas, you're gettin' me butterflies."

That morning, they postponed coffee.


	5. Bad Blood

_All this bad blood here, won't you let it dry?_

_It's been cold for years, won't you let it lie?_

Dean looked up from his mug, letting his eyes search the room when he noticed an unusual silence. He put down his mug and got up from his seat to walk out of the kitchen as an attempt to look for Cas.

Castiel sat slouched against the back of the sofa with his laptop, and Dean could see the reason he was so silent. Cas was playing _Sudoku_, of all things. Dean stepped forward a few times to announce his presence, but Cas continued to remain still. Dean let out a short sigh and took a seat across him, keeping his eyes locked on Cas.

His hair was flat on his head unlike most days.

"Cas," Dean called softly.

Cas acknowledged him with two nods, still keeping his eyes on the screen. Dean bit his lip and chose to continue.

"Uh, I think it's time to talk about it," Dean said.

Cas paused. The actual hesitation to reply was clear all over his face.

"About?" Cas' voice finally broke.

Dean was beginning to lose his patience. He did his best to not show it, holding back from rolling his eyes or grunting and sighing loudly as he clenched his jaw instead.

"Um, Alastair. What the hell he really wants and what we're gonna do about it. That stuff," Dean said clearly.

He watched as Cas took a moment to decide on what to say. Cas finally looked up from the screen at Dean and shut his laptop, sighing.

"Do you want another blow?"

"_What?_" Dean sneered. He raised his voice a little, pushing the thought of not doing so. "Stop trying to change the subject every God damn time, Cas, we need to talk about it—"

"Why? Why do we _have_ to care anymore?" Cas responded back.

"Are you really asking that? What the hell's up with you?" Dean interrogated, folding his arms across his waist.

"Nothing's up with me," Cas said with nothing more. That was all it took for Dean to get up and walk over to the bedroom.

Dean simply grabbed his bag, not bothering about whatever else he could have left there. He turned around, hoping to see Cas standing at the door with an attempt to talk him out. Cas stayed seated in his sofa with the laptop flat on his lap, a hand over his mouth.

"Where are you going?" Cas asked as Dean's footsteps filled the room, the back of his head still facing Dean.

"I don't know, anywhere."

"Are you coming back?"

Dean scoffed, stopping in his tracks. "Why, do I have to now? Maybe, maybe I'll come back when you decide that I'm not just some dude you suck off when you feel like it." He turned his back and started pacing to the door.

"Dean—"

"No," Dean cut him off. He faced Cas again, who actually got up from his seat this time. "I've been _trying,_ to get us to talk about this stuff for a couple of days now and all you do is distract me with rough sex and ignore me the whole day after. Damn it Cas, _you_ were the one who called me out about not considering your fucking feelings and _pushed_ me into this like, two weeks ago? What the hell _am _I to you now?" Dean finished. He walked out before Cas could even respond with anything, slamming the door behind him.

He waited outside for a few more seconds, catching his breath as he leaned against the wall. He didn't mean a few things he said. Cas didn't push him into anything. It was what Dean wanted just as much. But Cas' behaviour had made Dean so furious, the bare thought of filtering whatever came out of his mouth was pushed away from Dean's head.

Cas had been nice the first week after they reunited. _They _were being nice to each other, acting like a normal couple in their 'honeymoon phase'. Dean knew it was all too good and gross to last long, with the subject of Alastair still out there playing at the back of his mind. The subject had to be brought up someday.

When Dean did bring it up the first time, Cas simply moved closer to him on the couch and kissed his neck. They made out, and had sex after. Dean was a little too happy with him to refuse the other two times as well, similar cases.

Cas' behaviour stepped down each time Dean brought it up. Dean decided it had gone too far when he realized it had been two full weeks of not doing _anything_ related to hunting and that Cas had no problem with it at all.

What angered him the most was that Cas hadn't even tried to stop him from walking out the door.

* * *

><p>"Everything," Cas muttered to himself, staring at the empty space in front of him.<p>

He contemplated on chasing after Dean, telling him he's absolutely right about everything, convincing him to stay and sitting down to actually talk about it.

Cas didn't. He stopped himself from doing all of that. He tried to tell himself he had a reason for being such a dick the past few days, but now that he thought about it, it really didn't make sense to him at all.

It was unsettling whenever Dean reminded him of Alastair. He thought about how much Alastair wanted him dead, or something possibly worse. When Dean brought the subject up, which Cas didn't blame him for at all, Cas started to think about how far Alastair would go to hurt him. Dean would be involved. Dean would get hurt. Dean would die.

But the thing was, Dean _loved _him. He's said it before, said it many times in different occasions, in which Cas would reply back the same and mean it.

Dean's said it into his chest when they stayed on the couch for half the day watching re-runs of old shows. He's said it into his neck when Cas snuck up behind him having breakfast. He's said it the morning after their first time.

Cas doesn't know anyone else who's loved him the way Dean does.

He thought maybe, maybe if Dean loved him less and less each day it'd be easier. Maybe it'd hurt less if Dean walked out on him. Cas was definitely wrong about that.

Castiel had a cigarette in his hand when he decided it was time to call his brother.

* * *

><p>"Hey Cinderella, you're home early."<p>

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his bag to the floor, ignoring Sam's remark. He laid himself on the couch and stretched out his legs, placing his right foot over his left.

"So… you've been at Cas' place for a while," Sam said.

"Yup."

"How is he?" Sam asked.

Dean shut his eyes and folded his arms to support the back of his head.

"Bein' a straight class dick, that's what," Dean murmured loud enough for Sam to hear. He didn't catch Sam's reaction, having his eyes still closed, but he could feel the level of awkward in the air rise at the silence.

"Uh, do you- wanna talk about- no?" Sam finally let out.

"Don't force yourself Sammy," Dean answered. "Hey, when was the last time _we _went on a hunt?" he suddenly mentioned, sitting up slightly.

Sam shrugged. "The week before last week? I don't know. You sure you're good?"

"We should find a case. Let's find a case. Seriously, I feel like if I don't do something good for the community I'll end up actually _doing_ something good for the community," Dean rambled.

Sam pressed his lips together in a straight line and raised his eyebrows. "That made no sense. But sure, I guess. I mean, I thought you'd have at least been on one job working with—"

Dean eyed him to end his sentence right there. Sam paused and nodded, raising his hands in a form of surrender. Sam never pushed on topics Dean didn't like to talk about, but Dean knew somewhere along the way he'd get at least one sentence out of him without even trying.

"O-kay. I'm gonna go talk to Bobby and find a case for us," Dean stated, lifting himself from the couch.

"_I'll _get us a case. You get some rest and sleep or something, seriously," Sam interjected back. He gestured his finger for Dean to sit back down, earning a questioning raise of the eyebrows as a response.

Dean laughed. "I've had like two weeks of rest, in what world do I ever do that?

"I'm just saying, you look beat, and I mean it in the non-physical kind of way."

"Right, that matters now," Dean huffed.

"It does, and I'm just saying," Sam replied back, shrugging his shoulders.

He sighed in defeat when Sam looked back at him worriedly. "Fine, whatever. I'll 'sleep it off' while you find a job that's nowhere near Kirksville, Missouri."

* * *

><p>"You lied to me." Cas got straight to the point as soon as he picked up.<p>

"_Hello to you too, Castiel!"_

Cas rolled his eyes. "The address you sent me— do you even know what _happened_ when I got there?"

There was a pause on the other end. Cas heard his brother let out a tired sigh.

"_Look, it wasn't supposed to happen, I'm—"_

"You're what? You're sorry?" Cas laughed. "How many God damn times do I have to hear that from you?" he sneered, partially letting his emotions take over. He coughed slightly at the cigarette smoke in the air, waving his hand in front of his face.

"_You're smoking again. And you possibly have a drink close to you."_ Gabriel's voice cut through after a lengthy pause.

Cas darted his eyes towardsthe empty whisky glass standing on the round desk next to him. "What's it to you?"

"_I'm coming over, I'll be there in a few hours. Cas, drop the blunt."_

"Whatever."

* * *

><p>The ride to Ames, Iowa the next day was fairly comfortable. The brothers were used to long-hour drives, the radio blasting at an appropriate enough volume for them, and the stops at gas stations to refill gas or spend a few bucks on road food.<p>

It was only a four hour drive from Bobby's anyway. Sam had found a case about an apparent 'landslide accident', causing seven deaths, one on each day of the week. Dean was up for it. He definitely needed something to fight, shoot, or stab. He never exactly fancied his job, but at some point of time working on the case, maybe he'd feel good about himself.

'_Oh, earth angel, will you be mine?'_

Dean rolled his eyes at the song playing and pressed a button to change the track.

'_I wanna know what love iiiisss, I want you to show me'_

"Are you kidding me?" Dean scrunched his face, glaring at the radio before turning it off completely.

Sam smirked. "You obviously need to talk about something."

"No, I don't," Dean firmly said while shaking his head.

"Well, you're gonna let it out one way or another," Sam persisted. He stayed quiet for the next few minutes, looking out the window as his brother continued to drive fast.

Dean sealed his lips together and kept his focus on the road. Nope, nope, nope, he's not going to give in.

"He's just- all of a sudden he's so_ damn freakin' _ignorant and moody, things were going great one week and the next it just-" Dean paused, unsure of what word to use. He simply slapped the steering wheel with his right hand and muttered, "Yeah, why am I telling you this?"

"Well, do you think that maybe… that's just how he is?" Sam shrugged.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "What, like I've only begun to know him now? I hunted with him for two months. I've done what I can to take the bullet for him and hell, he's probably done that _twice _for me already. I'm telling you, Sam, there's something weird with him lately. All he's done for the past two days is play Sudoku on his laptop."

Sam nodded, taking in Dean's words. "Punch me for asking this out of the blue but, do you… _love _him?"

"I'll take the punch first," Dean uttered immediately.

"Dean."

Dean looked straight at the road, keeping both his hands tight on the steering wheel. He cleared his throat, biting down on his bottom lip.

"It's different, that's what I know," he softly said. He momentarily flickered his eyes to Sam, to catch him hiding a smile.

"So you do."

"Shut up," Dean grumbled, playfully pushing his brother's arm.

Sam smiled even more, then wiped it off his face when he spoke again. "Well, I guess if you do, then- you should be there for him, you know? He could be going through something, and maybe he needs you more than you think right now," Sam continued. He looked over at Dean when silence was all his brother responded with, but Dean kept his eyes on the road.

Dean sighed. "How the heck do you do that? Stop it, it's annoying," he said.

"Do what?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Come up with all that stuff, it's as if you weren't even trying."

"I _wasn't _trying, stickhead- it's 'cause you're my brother. We know each other better than anyone and I know what you need to hear."

"_Seriously_, that line?"

* * *

><p>"Yooo, I'm here! You could have picked up your phone and told me which house you were staying at, I had to ask the cute counter lady downstairs to confirm you were here and not in Fargo. But I know you're mad, I've got <em>tons <em>of explaining to—" Gabriel made his usual cheery entrance, swinging the door open to a quiet room.

"Cas?" Gabriel called as he walked in. "C'mon, no tricks here," he said with a laugh.

The apartment remained silent. Gabriel checked each room, slowly studying the area while his hand held firm on the gun at his belt.

After ensuring the area was clear, Gabriel slipped out his phone from his pocket to call his brother.

_"You've reached Castiel's voicemail. Leave a message after the beep, I guess."_

"Hey. Where are you? I see your drink, your blunt, and -" Gabriel paused. Black cigarette ashes sat with another familiar kind of powder on the ashtray on the round table.

"Holy shit on a stick."

* * *

><p>"So get this, it was found out that the victims had their <em>ears<em> ripped off, so I think - Dean?"

Sam frantically looked around him, scanning the motel room for a sign of his brother's presence. "Dean?" He called out again.

He checked the bathroom and outside the motel, then dialled his brother's number into the phone.

_"This is Dean's cell, leave a message."_

"Dean, where are you? Call me back," Sam said into the phone before ending the call. He called another two times, only to have it go to voicemail again.

He waited for another few minutes and observed the room for clues. Nothing seemed different other than his brother's absence. Sam looked over at Dean's bed momentarily and whipped his head back when he noticed yellow powder peeping out from the edge of the blanket.

He walked over to the bed and pressed two fingers lightly at the powder's surface. He brought his fingers to his nose, before letting out a grimace at the smell.

"Sulphur."

* * *

><p>Dean gained consciousness to a few voices surrounding him and a pull on his wrist as he attempted to move it. He peeked through an open eye, managing to get a glimpse of three backs turned toward him. They discussed among themselves in muffled tones. Dean moved his gaze to his hand as he begun to realize it was unnecessarily cold around his wrist. The cold metal trapped his wrist by cuffing it to a semi-circular handle. His legs were sprawled across the floor, his back starting to ache as he attempted to sit up after seemingly to have leaned against the cabinet behind him for days.<p>

He popped both eyes open, blinking a few times to study the room he was in. Most of the furniture were probably made by shiny, expensive wood, while a cloth of red velvet covered a high chair at the centre of the room. The room wasn't too big, but Dean thought it looked like a fancy office room, probably owned by a person of high position. He looked over to his left where a wooden table stood with today's newspaper. It was too distant to see the date. He lightly shook his wrist to see how tough the handcuff was on him, having it harshly clank even at the slightest pull.

One of the men turned to him, clapping a hand to another man's arm. "He's awake."

Dean kept still in his position, eyes glaring daggers at the unknown men surrounding him. "Where am I?" he questioned.

The men ignored him, exchanging looks with one another.

Dean huffed. "Answer the damn question, you bastards!" he yelled.

"Shut up," a slender middle-aged guy hissed at him. He leaned his body over Dean's, towering above him while Dean leaned back against the cabinet again.

Dean peered his eyes upwards when the sound of keys jingling against one another filled his ears from above him. A key was placed into the lock hole, twisting and unlocking the cuff around Dean's wrist. Dean rubbed his wrist, looked up at the guy, and swung his arm to punch the guy's jaw swiftly.

Dean got up on two feet right away, preparing himself to fight with the other two men. All three pairs of eyes in front of him clouded black, staring worriedly in Dean's direction. The guy Dean punched came at him, pushing him against the cabinet with an incredible kick. Dean retreated, moving to the side as the demons neared him. He threw another good punch at the first demon's nose followed by a slam to the body, causing the demon to throw his head back and yelp as he landed on the floor.

The second one held Dean from the back, trapping his hands together. Dean felt the same pair of handcuffs wrapped around both his wrists this time at his lower back.

The third demon in front of him smirked. "You're good. But not—"

Dean pounded the knee of the demon behind him with his right foot, knowing exactly where to hit to knock someone down for a while. He did the same to the demon in front of him before he could even finish his sentence. He moved away from the three figures, who have already gotten up and could attack him at any moment.

The first demon laughed, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "You're 'gon die, boy—"

"I _believe_ I've already said not to threaten him, haven't I?" a new voice filled the room. Dean looked around him. The voice didn't belong to any of the three demons.

Dean turned around. Five feet away at the front of the door stood a man in a dark suit, presumably shorter than the other four people in the room.

One of the demons staggered. "Y- Yes, sir, we were just—"

_Snap._

With a simple, short click of the fingers, the three demons vanished from Dean's sight, leaving with a cloud of black smoke. The handcuffs dropped to the ground effortlessly, letting Dean's hands free loosely.

Dean nearly hopped a step back in surprise. He didn't know anyone, or any_thing _had the ability to do that. He lifted his gaze to look at the man again, who returned it shortly.

"Dean Winchester. Good to see you're awake."

"Who are you, how did I get here, and what the _hell_ do you want?" Dean shot his questions straight-forwardly. He looked around the room. "Where's my brother?"

The man at the door raised his hands in surrender, smiling thinly in a not-so-genuine manner.

"I just want to talk," he uttered.

"_Where's my brother?" _Dean repeated, raising his voice.

"Relax. Your brother's in the fine hands of a lovely djinn in Ames, Iowa," the man said with a smile.

"Lay a finger on him and I swear I'll rip your _throat _out-"

"Kidding. Sam's probably searching the whole country for you, calling everyone he knows," the man cut him off before Dean could protest more.

Dean looked at him suspiciously. "Who are you?" he asked.

The man sighed. "Name's Crowley. I'm a demon. More than that, I am the King of Hell."

Dean smirked, raising his eyebrows unbelievingly. "Ah, I see. _King of Hell_, that's new. So what, not a fan of Lucifer or something?" he spoke, as if his sarcasm had its own language.

"Not really," Crowley shrugged. "But I really am the king, choose to believe it or not."

Dean paused in his spot, registering the words. It was definitely hard to believe that the 'King of Hell' stood right before him, but the seriousness in Crowley's tone made it seem believable.

"Why should I trust you? I'm here against my own will, three of your minions tried to beat me up, and I'm hungry as hell, so I'm assuming I've been asleep for at least a day here."

"Well, I got rid of them, and I've answered some of your questions, haven't I? Come with me, Dean," Crowley invited, gesturing his head to the next room before leaving to it without caring to catch Dean's response.

Dean hesitated and looked around the room for any weapons he could use in case things got out of hand. He grabbed a knife on the floor, probably dropped by one of the three demons as Crowley walked in and hid it at his belt.

He slowly took a few steps out the door, poking his head out to see what he was going into. It looked like an ordinary, rich person's living room, most of the furniture made from wood and velvet just like the previous room. He watched as Crowley took a seat in a one-seat velvet sofa between two people standing at his sides. Dean obviously assumed they were demons as well.

He eyed each of them, waiting for someone to tell him what in hell he's here for.

"Oh. Yes, take a seat," Crowley added. He looked over at both demons at his side, muttering, "Bring the other one in."

"Bring who in?" Dean interfered.

Crowley sent the demons away to a near room and turned to Dean. "Have a seat, Dean Winchester. We have company joining us."

"Yeah, I'll pass. You've barely told me what the _hell _is going on," Dean countered.

Crowley sighed. Just as he opened his mouth to say some ignorant comeback, the two demons returned, holding a figure's arms at each side.

"_I can walk myself," _the voice to that figure said in an annoyed tone. Dean could recognize that voice anywhere, anytime.

He looked up straight across him, to see Cas, looking as tired as ever, held by the two demons.

"Cas!" Dean called out, already pacing towards him.

Cas stared back with wide eyes silently in shock, his mouth left open. "Dean?" he muttered under his breath.

As Dean took another few steps towards him, a simple shape of a fist made by Crowley was all it took for Dean to jump back against the nearest wall from a narrow force.

"Save the reunion for later. Meanwhile, the three of us need to have a talk," Crowley said.

"Son of a bitch, let me go!" Dean hissed as his head banged once again against the wall.

Crowley rolled his eyes and waved his hand to let Dean go. Dean got back on two feet, breathing heavily as he averted his gaze to Cas. The demons were no longer there beside him. Cas looked deep in panic thought, keeping his eyes to the ground.

"Have a seat, Castiel," Crowley offered.

Cas looked up and shook his head, crossing his arms. "Standing is good for me."

Crowley puffed out a breath and threw his head against the back of the sofa. "You _hunters, _so bloody _stubborn," _he uttered quietly.

Before they knew it, Dean and Cas were on individual seats, pulled forcefully into them. The both of them fell silent, catching their breath as their eyes were still wide in shock.

Crowley clapped both his hands together. "Right then. Now that we're all seated and ready, we can start the story."

"What story? What the hell is going on?" Cas fumed. He looked at Dean for answers, but Dean was just as confused as he was.

Crowley smiled. "A story about; partnership. Love. Feud. Purpose. A story about; well, two people who weren't exactly supposed to meet, but did. A few times. Two people who had their differences, but somehow link as if they were bound to be together."

Dean scrunched up his face in confusion at the likely rehearsed line. "What- you talking about _us_?"

"Technically, yes. But in both your point of views, there are plenty of holes in the story. Correct?"

Dean and Cas looked at him questioningly, then to each other for answers. Crowley sighed. "Holes. You know, how some things are still missing in the plot. Like, Alastair and what the hell he wants, or maybe how you two met by coincidence _four_ times that year."

"So you're saying…" Cas thought out loud. He didn't exactly want to finish his sentence, whether it came out wrong or right, and Dean could so easily tell.

"That I know who, what, where, why, and how. Now this is the part when I actually start telling you what's going on, so your attention would be appreciated. Silently."

* * *

><p>"Believe it or not, boys, the three of us have got one thing in common."<p>

"Yeah, what's that? Stubble?"

Crowley patiently held a glance at Dean. The Winchester plastered a fake smile and shrugged at his own remark while Cas squinted back at him. "I don't fancy your sarcasm. And no, I'm talking about the want to have Alastair's head on a metal plate," Crowley stated with a straight face.

Both Dean and Cas glanced up at the mention of _Alastair_, wondering what they had gotten themselves into. "Who are you, really?" Cas asked.

"Crowley. King of Hell," Crowley introduced casually quick before clapping his palms together. Cas simply looked to Dean, dismayed by such a position to even exist and at the fact that him and Dean were possibly in the same room with the actual _King of Hell_. Dean ignored him by keeping his eyes peeled on Crowley, as if he was watching his every move to make sure the whole thing wasn't some trick.

"Alastair; cruel, smart, cunning when he was human, as I've heard. Did terrible things as a witch, went to hell. Obviously at the time I was still just the top salesman, lurking around Earth, making deals with self-centred humans. A couple of _centuries_ pass and blah blah blah, I'm already promoted to the highest spot, you don't need to hear that rollercoaster of a story.

"I let him off the rack within that time and offered him a chance to start torturing souls himself. He was brilliant at it. Finest torturer of hell, really," Crowley told, summarizing a probably thousand-paged story. "He was my second in command afterwards. Stood by my side wherever I went. Then, there was a sort of… _misunderstanding_. This is where your mother comes in, Castiel."

Cas clenched his jaw and leaned forward, a hand over his mouth as he elbowed his lap. Seeing Cas like that, Dean had never wanted more than to be by his side, no matter how mad he was about everything. It would've been better than sitting a metre away from him anyway.

"Naomi Milton; former hunter," Crowley said. He awaited a response from the both of them, specifically Cas, stressing an eye at his direction. Cas and Dean had looked as if they waited for _him _to elaborate further.

Cas nodded instead. "Yes, I know my mother was a hunter."

"You _know_? Why wasn't I informed of this? Who told you?" Crowley asked, worry almost filling his voice halfway.

"Yes, _we _know. We forced it out of a demon. She told us about Alastair and my mother and… their affairs," Cas responded. He looked to the floor towards the end of his sentence, clearing his throat.

Crowley froze, glancing elsewhere as he thought to himself silently. He mouthed a big 'oh' after a few seconds and smirked in Cas' direction, raising an eyebrow. "That's what Cecily told you? _Alastair _and your mum?"

Cas' eyes flickered back to Crowley questioningly. "Well, that's what it is, isn't it? She left him for the normal life, made him go berserk and planned—" he halted his rambling when all Crowley did was look back with surprise at every sentence. "That demon lied, didn't she?"

"Cecily was always the type to play both sides. Smart, too. It'd be a pity if you killed her after that," Crowley stated. "I don't blame you for believing her though, she had her way with making things up."

Cas laid back in his seat, hand over his face completely. Dean was just as shocked, but he couldn't possibly imagine what Cas was feeling right now.

"She told the truth about one thing, though. Alastair did go berserk," Crowley said softly. He formed his mouth in a straight line. "Because _I _was the one having a little soft spot for Naomi."

Cas registered the words slowly, the look in his eyes turning from shock, to denial, then to complete utter _anger_ Dean's never seen before. "You've got to be _joking_ me."

Cas darted out of his seat and threw one hand forward to Crowley's collar, the other holding dear onto a knife he had kept up his sleeve, aiming it at the demon's neck.

"Cas!" Dean called out, only to be side-eyed and ignored.

"You're telling _me_, that Dean and I are involved in this- that both my parents _died, _because of you?" Cas demanded.

"Hands off me, or I'll rip them off myself," Crowley threatened with a casual smile.

"Will you?" Cas snapped back.

Dean stood up from his seat, making a gesture with his hand. "Cas, just do what he says. He could kill you with a snap," he said. Cas gulped and fixated his eyes on Crowley, glaring at him as he tightened his grip on his knife. "Please," Dean pleaded softly, but loud enough for him to hear.

Cas stayed quiet. He huffed and let go, backing up as he cast the knife away. He went back to his seat, finally tearing his dagger-filled gaze away.

Crowley exhaled and wiped the front of his dark suit shortly. "That was awkward."

Cas glanced at Dean in defeat, tiredness and apologies written all over his face as he internally pleaded for Dean to keep talking. Dean got the message, as always, and opened his mouth to say something until Crowley spoke once again.

"Now _that_, was the same misunderstanding. Alastair assumed that I had actually grown attached to a hunter; when really, it was just a fling. He thought I gave her free passes to certain things, ruined business downstairs. In other words, Alastair no longer thought I was trustworthy or good enough for a leader. Subsequently, he had the idea of becoming king himself, while nobody really supported him at the time. He went completely off his rocker, started telling me off like a _moody _teenager, and left without a warning."

Dean listened in and understood, but there were still a few missing puzzle pieces that needed to fit. "Okay so, Alastair goes nuts, kills a bunch of people including our parents, what does he actually want with us if we're not dead already?"

"Right. He does want you two dead, in fact he's tried a few times. All I had to do was stop him," Crowley said. "And why in hell would I do that, you ask?" he continued, exchanging glances with the both of them before they could question it.

"Well, maybe, you two are just what I need to put Alastair out of the picture completely."

Cas scoffed. "You want _us, _humans, to kill a mad demon?"

"I don't get it, you're the King of Hell, can't you just snap your fingers and bust him out?" Dean suggested.

"I can't do that, because Alastair…" Crowley exhaled angrily. "Has me under a bloody spell. I can't use my powers against him. And as of yesterday, my powers deplete by day," he explained.

Dean wondered how that was even possible. "You're saying- you can't kill him because he, a demon, put you, a demon, under a freaking _spell?_"

"He's had me powerless against him for decades. Yesterday he went too far, and I've officially declared war between us. He has his minions now, I have mine. So what do you say, kill him, get something spontaneous in return?" Crowley offered, half-smiling as he eyed the both of them.

"I still feel like there's something missing," Cas uttered, shaking his head.

Crowley sighed. "Fine then, I'll fill you in with how you two met. Basically, I indirectly sent you two on the same cases, and then I'll save one of your lives, whoever's in trouble. Remember Earl McLaren, Castiel? He wouldn't have killed you if Dean hadn't stepped in, because I didn't let him. McLaren had always been under my control, even when he was human," he explained.

Dean remembered doing his own research that day. He remembered going into that house, finding an incredibly bossy Cas, and then saving him from the violent spirit. He did notice a slight change of behaviour when McLaren loosened his grip on Cas when he could have just killed him then and there. The fact that Crowley had him under control when he was human moreover explained the entire serial killer case after all.

"And Dean, that case about a witch in Omaha, did you manage to find out how you were knocked out for three straight days? Oh, sorry about that by the way, the sleeping spell was only supposed to last a few hours. Just enough for you to wake up and realize you're being driven away in your own car," Crowley said, placing a hand on his face with a bored expression. "Right, then there was that other witch, one of Alastair's, killed her before she killed you. That was fun."

Dean stopped to think about everything that's happened to both him and Cas since they first met. He shook his head in disgust. "That's just messed up and- messed up! What were you when you were human? One of those creepy matchmakers? Jeez, how long have you been watching?" he expressed.

Crowley stitched his eyebrows together in confusion. "What are you rambling on about?"

Dean paused before shaking his head. "Nothing," he muttered.

"You two- _already_?" Crowley marvelled.

"Shut up," Cas hissed loudly. "Tell me one thing, and maybe I won't stick a knife into your throat later," he continued, earning another pensive glare from Dean. "What is my brother up to?"

Crowley smirked at the question. "Gabriel? I'm afraid he's got approximately one thousand, six hundred and nineteen days- about five years left."

"_What?_"

"He made a deal. To keep you and your sister alive throughout this whole thing. It's why he gave you that blade and the address. I was the one who gave it to him," Crowley revealed.

Cas dug his fingernails into his palm as his breathing began to escalate. "_Why_- why would he—"

"Alastair tricked many of us. You weren't supposed to get possessed, I can promise you that. Do you still have that blade with you?" Crowley asked.

"I have it. Somewhere safe," Dean answered firmly for him. Cas looked like he was about to throw up at any minute then.

"Good. _Use_ it to kill Alastair and any of his followers. Do that, and I'll cancel Gabriel's deal," Crowley insisted, leaning forward in his seat.

Cas looked up. "Your choice of words aren't the best."

"Fine. Kill Alastair, I'll let you, Dean, your brother, and sister live. I can't guarantee that she wakes up, but nobody goes to Hell, I swear on it," Crowley suggested, crossing his own chest. Dean huffed at how ironic it was, and then snapped back to the real situation.

"Cas, just think about this for a minute—"

"Avenge your mother's death. Your father's death. Balthazar," Crowley called out. Dean didn't recognize the last name at all, but Cas glowered at the floor at the mention of it. "I'm sure Sam would want the demon who killed his girlfriend dead too, wouldn't he, Dean?"

Dean bit down on his lip, exhaling a breath through his nose. "Alastair- Alastair killed Jessica?" he muttered. Crowley nodded. "How do I know you're not lying? About everything?" Dean interjected.

"You don't. You can't. But I'll let you know that I have _never _backed out on a deal, and I never will," Crowley said. He switched his glance from Dean to Cas, who still refused to look at anyone in the room.

"We have a deal."

* * *

><p>"Just called Sam, he's pretty damn freaked but he's on his way and he wants an 'immediate explanation' as soon as he gets here," Dean said, putting his phone away as he slipped onto the couch.<p>

"You're hurt."

"I fell on my head when they knocked us out, _again_. It's just a tiny gush, I'm fine," Dean uttered out as Cas shuffled closer to him, reaching his hand forward to lightly stroke the side of Dean's forehead.

Cas continued to stare at it, his eyes full of what looked like worry and guilt at the same time. "You could get an infection with that."

"Seriously Cas, I'm fine," Dean assured again. He sighed as Cas left him on the couch, probably to get some first aid supplies.

Cas did in fact return with his first aid kit in his hands together with a damp washcloth. He sat himself next to Dean and eyed the gush on his forehead once again, full on concentrated as he placed the washcloth over the wound carefully. Dean kept his eyes locked on Castiel throughout the whole patching up process, not bothering about the stinging he felt when dabs of antiseptic or alcohol came in contact with his skin.

When Dean first saw Cas being walked in by a couple of demons, it sort of reminded Dean of how Cas looked in the morning; his face all grumpy and annoyed with his hair out of place. Cas looked like he had been woken up from a deep sleep with no more want than to go back, until he saw Dean. It was as if something hit him right on the head to wake him up. The alertness in his eyes, confusion, and hell, Dean's never seen him with a face like that ever since the demon in him stabbed him in the arm.

But right then and there when Cas was gently applying the bandage on Dean's forehead, Dean knew Cas noticed he was staring and did his best to not return the gaze. Cas finally looked back at him when he used a second tape. He quickly averted his eyes back to the bandage, swallowing nervously as he did so.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Cas asked, his voice low and soft. He dropped his hands to his lap when he was done with the bandaging, finally letting himself meet Dean's eyes with his.

Dean smirked. "'Cause we always have the best moments when one of us is bleeding," he said in a peaceful voice.

Cas tugged a corner of his mouth, a genuine smile forming that Dean hadn't seen in days. He wiped it off his face immediately and dropped his gaze to the floor, sighing softly. Dean let him take a few moments to speak.

"I really fucked up, didn't I? Not just this demon crap. _Everything_," Cas finally said.

Dean thought about the things he could reply with. "I'm still pretty mad at you. So yeah, you sort of did," he muttered, not letting any tone of harshness escape him.

Cas huffed a light breath and nodded in understanding. He closed his eyes as he lowered his head to the floor, waiting for Dean to continue as if he was preparing himself to hear words he didn't want to hear.

Instead, Dean leaned in and kissed him on the side of his head. "But you know what? So did I."

Dean watched him go in shock for a few moments. Cas widened his eyes a little at the floor and lifted his head up to look at Dean. His eyes were then weary as he shook his head lightly.

"How could you _possibly _say that?" Cas breathed out.

"We all make mistakes, Cas. You do, I do. Hell, I've done tons of stupid things before I even met you, but they don't matter now. What's done is done and can't be undone. I can't undo the things I said to you that day, no matter how many times I say I didn't mean it. I mean yeah, you got me confused and fucked and stuff but I _never _meant it when I said you pushed me into this," Dean said back.

Cas pressed his lips together tightly and wiped his face as he looked away. "I don't deserve you, Dean, I can't—"

"I've always thought it the other way around," Dean remarked, shrugging. He waited a few moments before adding, "But I guess we're both a couple of shitheads."

Cas laughed anyway through the tears brimming at his eyes. "A couple of broken shitheads who can't seem to _ever_ get away from each other, huh?" he added.

"That sounds just about right," Dean said, raising a thumb to wipe a small tear that had rolled down shamefully down Cas' cheekbone.

Cas leaned into Dean's touch and clasped a hand over Dean's, brushing his thumb around the inner palm of Dean's hand. Cas eyed him sadly as he let go. "I believe I have to tell you something."

Dean momentarily flickered his eyes to their hands, now back on their own laps disappointedly. "Okay, what?" he asked with a hint of worry in his tone.

Cas sighed. "I think you noticed. Crowley mentioned someone who was important to me; his name was Balthazar."

Dean recalled Cas' change of expression when that name was said, but he mostly planned on asking some other time about it. "Yeah."

"Dean, I've never really explained to you how I got into hunting."

* * *

><p><strong>SEPTEMBER, 2012<strong>

"Are you serious? We're watching _Titanic_, on post-breakup movie night? Do you both hate me that much?"

"Quit complaining, you need to laugh sometime," Cas retorted as he made his way to the couch to join his moody friend.

Balthazar's voice slurred slightly. "I'm not even that sad, I just said I'll miss the sex with her! She was _good_." He zoomed out for a moment, nodding at his own sentence before pulling himself back. "But really, if you want to make me laugh or cry so bad, you should just play one of your space documentaries, they make me do both."

Cas shook his head and sighed softly at his friend's words. "You're going to need a few more drinks, my friend. It's tradition."

"Already on it!" Gabriel called from the kitchen.

"And more caramel for the popcorn, tiny bit of salt plus the churros I bought earlier!" Balthazar called back.

"Not your waiter!"

Balthazar grunted, letting his head fall momentarily back to the cushion before he got up and strolled briskly to the kitchen. "I'm miserable from having my heart broken, I deserve good snacks!"

Cas silently shuffled through the pile of DVDs in his hands while a muffled conversation between his brother and best friend carried on in the kitchen. It was already their third time having post-breakup movie night that month. The first time was on the night Cas' two-week relationship ended, in which Cas himself broke it off as his former partner turned out to be a misogynistic, close-minded dick. He wasn't too upset about it, said it wasn't going anywhere anyway, but Balthazar and Gabriel's over-efforts in cheering him up had annoyed him to the maximum, so he gave in anyway.

As for Gabriel's following breakup from a relationship that lasted three days, nobody questioned it when he came into the house with a lopsided grin playing on his mouth.

"_Hey, fellas! Looks like it's movie night."_

"_Sorry- who were you even with?"_

Balthazar's open relationship with a young woman had recently ended after a couple of months. According to Balthazar, they had sex at least five times a week, in which to Cas responded with, "I did not need to know that at all."

Cas whipped his head up from the narrowed down DVDs when the doorbell rang. He headed to the door and swung it open, meeting an elderly man who wore a red delivery uniform.

"Pizza," the man mumbled softly. His expression was blank as he kept his eyes on Castiel and nowhere else.

Cas darted his eyes to the pizza box and shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, we didn't order one. Wrong address, perhaps?"

The man shook his head and wagged his index finger in front of him. He picked up the note that lay uselessly on the box and read it aloud. "No no, it says here; this pizza is a gift to Gabriel and Castiel Novak. Condolences for your soon-to-be dead friend."

Castiel could barely say a word or much less _breathe_ before he was suddenly thrown hard against a wall, knocking him out completely.

He gained back consciousness after what seemed like ten minutes later. His head hurt as he sat up, painfully lifting his eyelids open at the bright light that filled the room. He gasped as his eyes fixated on his surroundings. Most of the furniture were turned over with sheds of glass scattered up and down around him. He scanned the room, panting as he was taken aback by the disastrous sight before him.

It was only a matter of seconds before he froze at the sight of Gabriel, hunched and crossed legged on the floor across the room. Gabriel's hand was sunken into his face, fingers pressing hardly against his temples as his mouth shaped into a distressed frown. In front of him lay a person, still and wounded at the chest.

Cas' eyes filled with horror as he looked over to the person's clothes. Pants, shirt, shoes; all of it was highly, painfully familiar.

"_Condolences for your soon-to-be dead friend."_

Cas sat in shock as he recalled what had happened before. "No," he whispered. "No, this isn't happening."

His whole body shook as he got up, stumbling slightly when he shuffled his feet across the room. He sunk to his knees as he caught sight of Balthazar's unconscious body on the ground beneath him. Gabriel remained in his position, not bothering to look up at his brother to explain anything.

"Balthazar," Cas called out softly.

No response.

"Balthazar," he repeated, cracking his voice at the first syllable. He reached his trembling hands forward and helplessly shook him by the arm. "Balthazar, _get up_!" He swallowed the lump in his throat, breathing heavily as he stared hopelessly at his friend's body.

Gabriel let out a wet sigh before finally looking up in defeat. Cas hadn't averted his view from the colossal amount of red that stained the middle of Balthazar's V-neck. "He's gone, Cas," Gabriel mumbled.

Cas shook his head. "No, he can't be gone. What are you talking about? He's _Balthazar_, damn it, he can't be—"

"Cas." Gabriel clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder to cut him off, squeezing it gently as he remotely looked him in the eyes. Cas clenched his jaw and internally pleaded for Gabriel not to say it. Gabriel lightly shook his head at him in response.

Neither of them said anything for a while, but that night was the first time Cas had given in on playing the role of a younger brother.

* * *

><p>"We called the police, said there'd been a robbery and a murder at our place. Then, well… Gabriel told me the reason he had been so distant the few months before that. He got into hunting," Cas explained.<p>

"Wait, your brother was a hunter _before_ you_?_" Dean questioned.

Cas nodded. "Yeah. He had an encounter with a demon who happened to mention our parents. When he told me, I was a little conflicted, obviously. I said I wasn't in the mood for jokes, swore a little, then I figured he was actually serious about- everything. He said that the man who killed him had black eyes.

"So I- I asked if I could join him. He said no, clearly, but I was so, so messed up, Dean, I convinced him to let me. He taught me a few things, and I was a fast learner. We did hunt together for about, a week. He couldn't take me, I couldn't take him, we fought at almost everything, and bringing Balthazar into the topic was the end of every argument.

"Then we just… parted ways. It was difficult at first; adapting myself. But I did, so. Big bravo to me," he storied, ending the last sentence with a tone of sarcasm and melancholy at the same time.

Dean sat in silence, taking in every word Cas said as something that actually happened to him almost a year and a half ago. Dean didn't often picture a normal-living, late-twenties Cas, working or studying for a paying job, with plenty of hobbies he had to occupy the weekends. Cas probably had a party of friends Balthazar introduced him to; if friends counted as people he awkwardly made conversations with at mutually invited events. Cas was going to be a professor or an _astronomer, _Dean remembered.

"I'm sorry all of that happened to you," Dean managed to say, gently to not startle him.

"Don't be."

"What?"

"Dean, I can't have the people I love die, because of me, or _for _me again. And that includes you. If- if _anything _were to happen to you, I'd... I don't know what I'd do with myself," Cas admitted. He looked down at his hands when he said this, massaging them softly as he did so.

Dean sighed and took Cas' face in his hands, forcing them to make eye contact. "Hey. Look at me, hey. I'm fine, and I'm not going anywhere. Nothing's gonna happen to me, or you, I'm not lettin' it."

Cas nodded understandingly and leered his eyes down to Dean's lips. He moved forward and cupped Dean's face the same way before he pressed his lips together with Dean's. Dean leaned into it immediately, desperately, inhaling through his nose to catch a breath. A small sound came out of Cas into the affectionate kiss, almost sounding pained from having to pull himself away from thoughts like this for the past few days.

They pulled away eventually to breathe, panting shortly into each other's faces. "God damn, I missed that," Dean muttered.

Cas smiled and moved his hand from the back of Dean's neck to his face. "I want you to know that you mean the world to me. And that I'm sorry for how I acted. And I'll never do that again."

"Yeah. Stop that, you know I hate cheesy lines," Dean said.

Cas smirked and let go, moving his eyes away to go in thought. "Well, enough of this then. We've got a demon- son of a bitch- ass to kill."

"Demon son of a bitch ass, yeah, that's a good try."


End file.
